


Let's See What We Can Do

by dumbkili



Series: we make a good team [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Body Sharing, Family, Frisk Uses Sign Language, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Magic, Magic-Users, Post-Pacifist Route, Selectively Mute Frisk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:38:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5372279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbkili/pseuds/dumbkili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[It was really cool. I wish I could do something like that.], says Frisk, feeling a little wistful for a moment. Chara sneers at them.</p>
<p>“Oh, I bet you could,” says MK. “I mean, humans can use magic, can’t they? Otherwise, how would they have…. I mean, the barrier was made by humans. So. Humans can be magical, too!”</p>
<p>Frisk can feel a bubble of excitement swell up in their chest, overwhelming Chara’s knot of irritation about the book. [Really? Wow!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. soup is not on the same level as ice cream

It all starts because MK finally figures out what their magic is.

They run to Frisk’s house as soon as school is out, tripping on the stairs a little bit, and start headbutting the closed door insistently, shouting, “Frisk! Frisk! Frisk!” the whole time. Frisk looks up from the book Chara had been reading, ignoring their protests, and opens the door. MK literally falls inside, then pops back up, grinning widely.

“Yo! Frisk! I did it!” they say, hopping a little bit.

[Did what?], Frisk signs. Chara starts sulking, annoyed that they couldn’t finish the chapter they’d been on.

“My magic! I figured it out!” MK shouts, practically beside themself with excitement. “My sister said I wouldn’t ‘cause I don’t have any arms but I sure showed her! I don’t need arms to be cool!”

[What do you mean?], signs Frisk. They’re happy because MK is happy, but they’re a little bit confused.

“Oh!” MK says. “Sorry, kinda forgot you were human for a sec. My magic, yo! It’s like… something monsters have. Your unique weapons and defence and stuff, you know?” They smile even wider. “And I figured mine out!”

[Show me!]

“O-oh, okay, well, it’s a bit of a work in progress b-but,” stutters MK, a little embarrassed. “I mean, sure! Here it is!”

They close their eyes tight and grit their sharp little teeth together in concentration. Nothing happens for a second, and Frisk is almost about to tell them something like “Better luck next time!” when suddenly a row of small yellow spikes, almost like the ones MK has on their back, materialize in-between the two kids. MK concentrates harder, and the spikes arrange themselves into a circle, spin around once, and fade back out of existence. MK releases a huge breath. Frisk claps loudly. Chara keeps pressing images of the book into the forefront of their mind insistently, but they go ignored.

[That was so good!], Frisk signs enthusiastically. [I love it!]

“T-thanks!” MK says, still a little out of breath. “I can’t believe I did it!”

[It was really cool. I wish I could do something like that.], says Frisk, feeling a little wistful for a moment. Chara sneers at them.

“Oh, I bet you could,” says MK. “I mean, humans can use magic, can’t they? Otherwise, how would they have…. I mean, the barrier was made by humans. So. Humans can be magical, too!”

Frisk can feel a bubble of excitement swell up in their chest, overwhelming Chara’s knot of irritation about the book. [Really? Wow!]

“You should ask your mom about it!” suggests MK. “I bet she could give you lessons!”

[Mom is kind of busy with the school], Frisk signs. [I could ask Alphys, though! She always knows things].

“Yo, that’s a great idea!” MK exclaims. Then they catch a glimpse of Frisk’s clock. “Oh man, I gotta get home. I’m supposed to be back by four!”

[Bye!] says Frisk, and MK zips out the door. Frisk finally gives in to Chara and flops back on the bed, picking up the book. Chara eagerly starts reading.

_Magic, huh?_ Frisk says. _That could be cool_.

**I’m reading.**

_I’m just saying. Maybe we should ask Alphys about it._

__

**Maybe we should do a lot of things,** says Chara. **Maybe we should do your homework. But we’re not going to. Because sometimes, things you _should_ do are boring.**

_Since when is magic ‘boring’?_

__

**Since it started keeping me from reading my book!** Chara all but shouts. Frisk frowns, and lets the conversation die. Sometimes Chara gets like this, and it’s best to just leave them be. On good days, Chara can be pretty cool. They tell weird nerd jokes and make puns that Frisk repeats to Toriel for a laugh. But they always fall back into these bad days in the end.

_I’m taking a nap_ , they say after a few minutes of awkward silence.

**Yeah fine whatever,** Chara mutters, and Frisk gives them control of their body’s eyes and hands so they can keep reading the book. Then they fall asleep.

When they wake up, Chara’s asleep. Or at least pretending to be. They’ve returned full control of the body to Frisk and retreated somewhere deep in the shared headspace where they can be alone- or the closest thing to it. Frisk gets up out of bed and goes downstairs to see if dinner has happened yet, and to see if anyone is hanging out in the living room or kitchen. Sometimes people just come over to Toriel’s house, much the same way Asgore used to encourage monsters to fill his empty home in the Underground.

They clomp down the stairs extra-loudly, because they just got some cool new boots as a gift from Toriel. They’re heavy and black and clunky and some of the very few things that Chara and Frisk both agree they like.

Sure enough, Alphys and Sans are in the living room. Alphys is watching something on her phone and Sans appears to be asleep. Loud banging sounds from the kitchen confirm that dinner is underway, and that it will also probably be inedible seeing as both Undyne and Papyrus’ voices can be heard. Frisk checks the headspace, and is relieved that Chara is still out of it. They’d probably get annoyed when they saw what Frisk is about to do.

“O-oh, h-hi, Frisk!” Alphys stutters when she sees Frisk walk over to her. “What’s up?”

[MK got their magic] Frisk signs. Alphys blinks in surprise.

“Really? I saw them run through here a couple hours ago, b-but I didn’t know it was about that!” Alphys exclaims, locking her phone. “H-hey Undyne!” she calls back into the kitchen, not worried about waking up Sans. They all know he won’t even flinch. “MK got t-their magic!” There’s an even louder clattering sound from the kitchen and Undyne bursts in, bringing the smell of scorched food with her.

“WHAT! That little nerd got their magic?!” she yells. “OH MY GOD, THAT’S GREAT!” Then she shouts the information over her shoulder to Papyrus, and the next five minutes pass in a similar fashion.

_Oh dear,_ Frisk thinks to themself. _This got a little bit away from me._

After the hype has died down a little bit, Sans finally wakes up and, upon telling Frisk to “give the kid my best” takes a shortcut back to his job. Apparently, he’s used up all of his breaks for the week in one go. Papyrus sticks around to finish the dinner he’d been making (he’s moved slightly away from spaghetti in the past year or so, and is now serving ravioli) and then also heads home. Undyne and Alphys stick around though, since Toriel isn’t back from work yet, and Frisk is finally able to work up to the question they’ve been trying to ask all evening.

[Alphys], they say, tugging on her coat so she’ll turn around to see their signs. [Can you teach me magic?]

She looks surprised, to say the least. “O-oh! I m-mean… I g-guess humans t-t-technically _can_ ….” She fiddles with the sleeve of her lab coat. “B-but it might b-be a little hard t-to teach you? I-I’m not s-sure how humans…” She trails off. Frisk waits patiently. They know how to deal with Alphys’ way of making decisions. Finally, after about fifteen seconds, she brightens up. “You know what! Yes! Let’s do it!”

“What are we doing?” asks Undyne, coming out of the kitchen from where she’s been cleaning up.

“F-Frisk wants to learn m-magic,” Alphys explains. Frisk nods eagerly. Somewhere deep within their head, Chara perks up a little bit.

_Oh no…_

__

“MAGIC?” Undyne shouts, and Chara jolts into full alertness. “FRISK WANTS TO LEARN MAGIC?!”

**You what.**

_Don’t be mad,_ Frisk says internally, then signs a [Yes!] to Undyne.

“That’s GREAT, kid!” Undyne cries, scooping Frisk up and spinning them around in the air. They shriek in delight, one of the few verbal things they do without extensive prompting and reflection. “And you couldn’t’ve picked a better pair to teach you!”

[You want to teach me too?] It’s a bit difficult to sign when they’re up in the air like that, but Frisk manages.

“ _HECK_ YEAH!” shouts Undyne, plonking Frisk down on the couch. “Oh man, you’re gonna learn so much!”

**Frisk! What the hell!**

_Don’t curse._

__

“I-it’s kinda late to s-start n-now,” Alphys says at slightly below normal volume, ever the quiet complement to her over-the-top girlfriend. “B-but tomorrow’s a Saturday, s-so maybe we can do t-the first lesson t-then? If you w-want.”

**Say no.**

[That sounds good!]

**Oh my god.**

“So it’s decided!” Undyne says. “Tomorrow after school, we’ll start!”

The three of them spend the remainder of the evening curled up on the couch watching old episodes of anime. Chara sulks the whole time, even though they _do_ actually like this show.

The next day, Frisk practically sprints down the stairs when they hear Undyne and Alphys arrive. Chara halfheartedly tries to trip them up on the steps, but they’re not really into it and besides, Frisk knows all their tricks by now. Undyne wants to use the front yard at first, but the operation quickly moves out back of the house once Alphys points out that the human occupants of the street might be a little put off by what’s about to go down.

“Right,” Undyne begins once they’re all settled, with Frisk sitting in the grass in front of their monster tutors, “First thing you gotta know about magic is that it’s different from person to person.”

“Y-yeah!” Alphys chimes in. “Like, my magic doesn’t look _anything_ like Undyne’s, or Papyrus’, or Toriel’s. It’s like… a signature. It’s unique.”

Frisk nods. They’d inferred that much. Chara starts humming loudly. It’s the jingle from some old charity commercial that was big back when they were alive, and it is _very_ annoying. Frisk projects annoyance at them and they hum louder, vindicated.

Undyne waves a hand and effortlessly summons a glowing blue spear, about three feet in length. “Now this,” she says, spinning it a few times, “Is something that only I can do.”

“A-and this,” Alphys says, blinking a six-inch bolt of electricity into existence, “Is something o-only I can do.”

[Wait], signs Frisk, confused. [Mettaton used that attack on me].

Alphys flushes. “W-well, yes. B-but he w-was able to u-use it because he w-was in a body that I designed. I-it has some of my magic s-sort of… built into it? K-kind of.”

[Oh! That makes sense], Frisk says. Chara switches from just humming the jingle to actually singing the words.

“Now, I can _try_ to replicate Alphys’ attack,” Undyne continues, waving her hand. A wobbly-looking blue lightning bolt forms, then shivers and dissipates almost before it’s done materializing. “But it won’t work. Because she’s an electricity focus and I’m not.”

Alphys tries to summon a spear to back up Undyne’s point, but can’t even get it past the wiggly, half-formed phase before she loses the magic completely. “See?” she says. “N-now, I think it might be d-different for you since you’re a h-human. H-humans are remarkably versatile.”

“Uh-huh!” Undyne says. “You should be able to do it no problem, kiddo! I mean, you’re kind of on the young side to _really_ figure out your attacks, but if MK’s doing it, then I’m sure you’ll do great! I remember that I was nearly thirteen when I finally made a spear for the first time. Up until then it was a lot of like… little arrows and stuff. Weird. Anyway, show us what you’ve got!”

...[How do I do it, though?] Frisk signs, confused. They wonder if it’s just like wishing or something, like in Peter Pan. Faith, trust, and pixie dust… Chara laughs at them.

“Oh!” Undyne cries, smacking herself in the forehead. “Sorry, yeah, I was rambling, wasn’t I?” She looks embarrassed for a second and Frisk wants, for the hundredth time, to tell her that she doesn’t need to apologize for talking too long, _ever_. But Undyne moves on too fast, like she always does. “Uh, so, I don’t really know how to describe it, but you gotta focus on your SOUL, you know?” Alphys nods in agreement. “Just focus on your soul and imagine the form you want your magic to take. Focus really hard!”

[Okay], says Frisk, a little bit doubtful. They know that it probably won’t be that easy, but they’re willing to try. Chara has finally stopped singing, so that should make concentrating easier. Frisk stands up, closes their eyes, and turns their attention inward, searching for the warm red feeling that is their SOUL. It’s there, right under their breastbone. They concentrate on it, thinking of Undyne’s spear. They imagine a spear forming in their hands. They can nearly _feel_ it, the smooth hilt and the perfect balance, but they can’t quite bring it into existence. It’s just on the edge of becoming real, but it’s not quite there.

**Oh, just let me do it.**

_What_ \- Frisk thinks, but suddenly they’re distracted by a faint tugging feeling in their SOUL and the more tangible feeling of something heavy in their hands. They open their eyes and see a deep red spear in their hands, glowing with a faint pinkish light. Almost as soon as they realize it’s there, the spear disintegrates. Undyne whoops.

“THAT WAS SO GOOD OH MY GOD! FRISK! OH MY GOD! THAT WAS GREAT!” she screams, and lifts them up into an enormous hug. They grin widely, proud even though they’re pretty sure they didn’t do it all by themselves. “AAAAH!” Undyne yells. “WE’VE GOTTA TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THIS!” Frisk smiles bigger. They’re still not used to being praised like this, even though they’ve been living with monsters for over a year.

“U-Undyne,” Alphys says quietly. “Maybe you should put them down so they can talk?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” apologizes Undyne. “Thanks for reminding me, babe.” Alphys blushes.

[I thought it would take more time!] Frisk signs exuberantly once they’ve got both feet back on the ground. [That was so quick!]

“You’ve got a gift, kid!” Undyne proclaims. “This calls for a celebration! CELEBRATION SOUP!”

[Most people would have said ice cream], says Frisk. They don’t mind, though.

“Ice cream is _gross_ ,” Undyne cries, scrunching up her face. “It’s like… _cold_ and stuff.” She all but marches back towards the backdoor of the house. “Nah, soup is where it’s _at_! I’ll go make some!”

“We can get ice cream later,” Alphys assures Frisk, and they both share a grin. Undyne’s peculiarities are an integral part of her charm. They follow her inside the house and wave a hello to Toriel, who’s reading in the living room, and to Whimsun, who appears to just be hanging out by the lamp in the corner timidly.

While Alphys and Undyne talk to each other as they all eat the (slightly burned) soup, Frisk turns to Chara.

_You helped me with the magic thing._

__

**...Duh.**

_How’d you know what to do?_

__

**Dummy. I spent years down there. I saw what my adopted family could do. I wanted to do it too.**

_Who taught you? Was it Mom?_

__

**…**

_Chara?_

__

**….Asriel.**

_Oh._

__

**….You still gotta practice, though, even with my help. Neither of us are very good.**

_I know. I thought you didn’t wanna do it, though?_

__

**I didn’t. But even I know that it’s pointless to try and talk you out of something once you’ve got your mind set on it. So I might as well enjoy it, I guess.**

_That’s nice of you._

__

**I’m not nice, Frisk.**

_I know. You wanna eat the soup? You like chicken noodle._

__

**...You’re weird, Frisk.**

Frisk doesn’t reply, just transfers the control of the mouth and hands to Chara and takes a backseat. Chara doesn’t say anything either, but there’s the slightest glimmer of begrudging gratitude coming from their part of the headspace now. Frisk sends some good vibes back.

 **  
** Then they start thinking about who to get lessons from next.


	2. this is not responsible babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NEW AND IMPROVED CHAPTER NOW WITH G H O S T C O U S I N S

The week passes largely uneventfully. Alphys and Undyne can’t come over on Sunday, so Frisk spends the day trying to summon the spear again in their bedroom. It’s really hard. They still can’t do it unless Chara helps, and even with the both of them working together they can’t summon more than one, or hold it for any longer than a few seconds.

Then it’s time for school again and Frisk suffers through five _long_ days of classes. They think it would be easier to focus if Toriel was their teacher, but she said it wouldn’t be fair to the other students if her own child was in her class. So instead they’ve got some _boring_ human teacher that Toriel hired in an attempt to create a diverse community. He is stuttery and awkward and slightly nervous around the monsters in the class, and Chara hates him. Frisk thinks he’s trying very hard, and that should count for something.

**I’m gonna scream,** Chara mutters angrily as the teacher stammers over the same statistic from the Civil War for the fifth time.

_Please don’t_ , Frisk replies, dutifully taking notes. They like history class. Chara doesn’t, really. But it balances out, because they’re good at math and Frisk… isn’t.

**Gonna do it,** Chara threatens. Frisk sighs and raises their hand. The teacher- what was his name? Mister… something…- looks very surprised to see a sign of life among his students, but calls on them all the same.

[May I use the bathroom?] Frisk signs politely. The teacher nods assent and they quickly leave, because they know when Chara is serious and when they’re joking, and they’re _not_ joking. If they can’t do it using Frisk’s mouth, they’ll do it in the headspace, which is equally as distracting.

_Ok go_ , Frisk thinks once they’ve locked themself in a stall, and waits patiently while Chara yells until the headspace gives off a feeling not quite unlike a sore throat. _You good?_

**Yeah.** Chara doesn’t apologize. They never apologize. **I hate school.**

_Me too,_ Frisk replies, but they don’t think that Chara and they mean the same thing when they each say the word “hate”. For Frisk, it means intense dislike, but for Chara… it means something else. Something deeper. The headspace is vibrating with that feeling right now, nearly filled with it. Chara’s really worked themselves up over this.

**Hey. Can I… try something?** Chara suddenly asks, hesitant, and that catches Frisk’s attention. They’re never hesitant.

_What? Uh… sure?_

**Cool. Hands?** Chara prompts, and Frisk relinquishes control. It always feels weird to let Chara do that, but they’ve learned to get used to it. Chara flexes Frisk’s fingers a few times, getting used to the feeling, then carefully presses both palms against each other. **Okay now do the thing.**

_The thing?_

**The SOUL thing, dummy!** They snap, and Frisk smiles a little bit. That’s more like Chara. They think they have an idea of what’s going on now, so they close their eyes and focus on their SOUL. The feeling of the SOUL mixes with the weird, deeper feeling that Chara’s projecting into the headspace and creates something… weird. Frisk feels Chara pull their hands apart and they gasp as the handle of something heavy falls into their grasp. They open their eyes and feel both theirs and Chara’s shock and pride as they look at the weapon they’re holding. It’s not a spear. It’s… weird. It’s like a short sword, a little over a foot in length, too small to be a proper broadsword and too big to be a knife. It’s a brilliant scarlet color.

**Holy shit.**

_Chara!_

__

**Seriously? You’re not even gonna make an exception for this?** Chara still has control of Frisk’s hands and they slowly, carefully, almost expertly give the sword a twirl. It clangs on the side of the bathroom stall and both of them jump at the sound, their concentration slipping. The sword shatters into magical dust that fades before it hits the ground. Chara groans loudly, and practically shoves full control back to Frisk in frustration.

**We! Almost! Had it!** they shout, and if they had a body Frisk imagines they’d be kicking a wall right about now. Frisk tries to broadcast some calming feelings into the headspace.

_We did have it! We held it for longer than we’ve ever held it before! And we even made a personalized weapon! Well, you did, mostly,_ Frisk says. _I think you’re the one that’s really summoning these things. I’ve just got the SOUL._

__

**Whatever,** says Chara. They’re acting sulky, but Frisk knows that they’re secretly drinking in the praise. **We still need to be better.**

_Well,_ Frisk begins, thinking. _I know that Mettaton and Blook are babysitting us tonight. We could ask them for a lesson._

**I hate that word. ‘Babysitting’. I’m not a baby. I’m older than nearly everyone you know.**

_Sure, Chara,_ says Frisk placatingly. They know that Chara died a really long time ago, but they also know that Chara never really matured past the age where they died. Mentally, they’re still about the same age as Frisk.

Frisk unlocks the bathroom stall and goes back to class. Mr. Something is still stuttering his way through the Battle of Gettysburg, and Chara clicks their nonexistent tongue in disgust.

**I’m taking a nap.**

_Okay,_ Frisk replies. The rest of the Friday passes in a blur, and before they know it, they’re outside the school and being scooped up into a big hug by a six-foot tall robot.

“Frisk-darling!” he cries, spinning them around in a big circle. Actually, _spin_ is too common and clunky of a word to describe how Mettaton moves. It is a _pirouette_.

When the perfectly executed ballet move comes to its graceful end and Frisk has been gently placed back on the ground, they are finally able to sign an enthusiastic greeting. Then they look around in confusion. [Napstablook?] they sign. They can’t see the ghost anywhere.

“Oh, Blooky stayed behind at your house, dear,” Mettaton explains, waving a hand. “You know them. They hate crowds.” He surveys the gaggle of preteens surrounding him. He towers over all of them. “Hm. Let’s go, Frisk-dear, before that woman from the meeting last month sees me here and tries to talk.” He ushers them away from the crowd and they start walking down the block. Frisk reaches up and places one of their hands in Mettaton’s, a signal that they’re fine with not talking for the trip. Mettaton takes the hint and fills up the silence by monologuing about his day.

“...So then- and you simply _won’t_ believe this, Frisk-honey... but then this man has the nerve- the _audacity_ \- to tell me to ‘ _tone down_ ’ my makeup for the gig! I mean! Honestly! So of course I asked him why, and he responded with some _inane_ nonsense about ‘ _boys_ ’ and ‘ _what’s right_ ’... I guess I had no choice. Would you like to know what I did?” Mettaton grins down at Frisk. “I zapped him with one of Alphys’ lightning bolts, of course! And then I put on an even _brighter_ shade of lipstick!” He proudly gestures to his face. His lipstick is a very, _very_ bright pink. It complements his outfit nicely. Frisk giggles at the story. It’s a good one. They like hanging out with Mettaton. He’s funny.

**Ask him about the lessons.**

_Oh! I didn’t realize you were awake._ Frisk gets distracted suddenly as Mettaton launches into another story, this one about a nice dress he’d seen in a window. _I’ll ask later, okay?_

__

**You’re the worst,** Chara grumbles. **He tried to kill you, you know.**

_Everyone we know has tried to kill us at least once. You gotta learn to forgive and forget._ Frisk ignores Chara’s grumbles and focuses on Mettaton for the rest of the walk.

When they get home, Napstablook is in the living room. They’re listening to something that sounds like something that Frisk can only think of as ‘Spookstep’ on their headphones, and the volume is turned up so loud that the music can be heard from across the room.

“Blooky!” Mettaton calls from right behind them. They jump and turn around, the edge of one headphone sliding a little bit so that they can hear better.

“oh…………………………….hi……………...Mettaton…...and Frisk…..” they say slowly. Frisk gives them a little wave, and they seem encouraged. The Spookstep’s beat drops in the silence and Mettaton claps his gloved hands together. They make a dull metallic noise.

“Alright! Let’s do something!” he cries, twirling on the spot as if something entertaining is just going to appear out of thin air.

[Metta], Frisk signs. He immediately stops twirling and bends down, devoting all his attention to them.

“Yes, darling? What is it?”

[What do you know about battle magic?] they ask. [I want to learn.]

“Magic?” Mettaton says, his eyes going very wide. He glances over his shoulder at Napstablook, then back at Frisk. Both of them look a little apologetic. “Oh, hon, uh… Ghosts don’t really… know a lot of offensive magic.”

[But Blook battled me?] Frisk asks, cocking their head to one side. They distinctly remember the battle, because it had been one of their first, way back in the Underground.

“well…..yeah...but i only used one attack…..” Napstablook says quietly. They seem embarrassed. “i got tired………………………sorry…………..”

“What we lack in attacks, we make up for in style!” Mettaton adds cheerily, and Napstablook seems a little less flustered. “And defense, of course.”

[Defense?] Frisk can vaguely remember MK mentioning that.

“Yup! You can use your magic to protect yourself as well as wound your enemy. Have you learned about attacks yet?” Mettaton asks. He seems very excited. Frisk nods.

[Undyne].

“Ah, yes, of course,” Mettaton says, nodding wisely. “Well, get ready darling! You’re about to get a _real_ lesson!” He stands up swiftly and ties his hair back, all in one fluid motion. “Okay, let’s do this!”

[Now?], Frisk signs, just as Napstablook sighs out a tiny little, “now………..?”

**FINALLY** , says Chara, checking back into the conversation.

“Yes!” cries Mettaton. “Frisk, dear, would you please help me move the sofa back a little bit? I would ask Blooky, but they don’t have arms…”

“........sorry………”

“It’s absolutely _fine_ , Blooky.”

And that’s how Frisk finds themselves sitting on Toriel’s worn sofa, watching Napstablook and Mettaton face each other from opposite ends of the room, getting ready for a demonstration.

“Ready, Blooky?” asks Mettaton. Napstablook bobs up and down in the air in affirmation. “Okay! Hit me! Or try to, at least!” He winks at Frisk.

“ok….here goes…..don’t judge it too much………” says Napstablook, and then their eyes well up with tears- magic ones. The teardrops are zig-zag shaped and bounce off the floor and up the walls, slithering across the ceiling to Mettaton. Frisk expects him to try to dodge- it’s what they had done when they battled Napstablook- but instead he just smiles and throws up one hand above his head, concentrating. A thin pinkish mist instantly surrounds him, almost like a haze of perfume. To the teardrops, however, it appears to act as a solid object, and they slide right off the cloud and disintegrate on the floor. Mettaton lowers his hand with a flourish and Frisk claps. He bows.

[How did you do that?] they ask eagerly. Chara is excited, too.

“Well, it’s a bit like… you need to focus on your SOUL, of course,” Mettaton begins. Napstablook makes a teensy sound of agreement. “But rather than holding onto the wish to attack, you need to think about _protection_ \- whatever that may mean to you specifically. And your magic will take care of the rest!”

[You think it will work if I’m human?] Frisk asks. They know that the attack magic worked, but maybe humans are one trick ponies.

“I’m _positive_ it will, darling!” Mettaton cries. “You can do anything you set your mind to, you hear me?” Frisk nods, dizzy with all of the positivity. Mettaton smiles wide. “Okay, do you want to try it now?” Frisk hesitates a little bit, then nods. They can do it! Mettaton said so!

**Okay** , says Chara as Frisk walks across the room to face Mettaton and Napstablook drifts over to the couch for a breather, **Just let me handle it, alright? Focus on that SOUL stuff.**

_Got it._

__

“Alright, Frisk!” Mettaton says. “I’m gonna use the lightning bolt attack that Alphys gave me, okay? Just so you’re prepared!” Frisk gives him a thumbs-up.

**Hands** , demands Chara, and Frisk gives them the reigns.

“Here goes!” Mettaton calls, and snaps his fingers. A volley of Alphys’ little bolts flies at Frisk and Chara, moving slow enough that they have time to prepare, but fast enough that they can’t dodge. Chara confidently throws out one hand and Frisk turns inward to their SOUL, but nothing happens.

_Uh… Chara?_

__

**It’s not working!**

The first and fastest of the bolts catches Frisk on the shoulder and they jolt a little bit, wincing. Mettaton cries out in alarm but Chara uses Frisk’s arm to wave away his concern, sending him another thumbs up.

_Let me try._

__

**I...I can't do it!**

_Chara._

__

**But- fine.**

Chara hands back control and Frisk very quickly turns back to their SOUL, asking it for protection. They think about how safe they feel in their new life- how they know that all the friends they’ve made, from Monster Kid to Asgore himself, would protect them without a second thought. It makes them feel warm inside, and not just because of their SOUL. There’s that tugging feeling again, and suddenly-

“Oh...oh my.”

Frisk prys their eyes open at Mettaton’s uncharacteristically quiet voice. They can feel their own mouth drop open in shock.

**Whoa…**

Frisk’s defense is a magical and slightly translucent crop of golden flowers. They stand tall and strong before them and the lightning bolts sizzle uselessly against their stems. When the last bolt has disappeared, the flowers shudder, shake, and lose form as one, melting back into oblivion. There is silence in the living room for a moment before Mettaton begins applauding.

“Frisk! Honey! That was- oh my _goodness_ I don’t even have the _words_ to describe how- That magic! That talent! Frisk, darling, you’re a _star_!” he shouts, and rushes forward to pick them up and pirouette yet again. They laugh, half out of relief and half out of exhilaration.

“that was good……..” Napstablook saying, and they almost sound happy.

**Damn, Frisk.**

“Frisk-darling, I am going to bake you the _biggest_ celebration cake you have ever seen in your entire life!” Mettaton proclaims, shifting Frisk onto one of his hips and booping them on the nose like they’re a very little kid. They don’t really mind. “I am _so_ proud of you!”

He positively glides into the kitchen and places Frisk on the counter, pulling out various ingredients.

[We don’t need a human soul this time, right?] Frisk teases. Mettaton laughs.

“I think not, darling. Besides, I’ve already got the substitute!” They both giggle and little bit and then Mettaton gets down to business, mixing and measuring and pre-heating like a pro (which, in a way, he is).

_Chara?_ Frisk thinks quietly. _Are you sulking?_

**……...No.**

_You can’t be good at EVERYTHING, you know._

__

**………………………..Whatever.**

_Well, I guess this proves one thing._

__

**...Which is…?**

_We make a pretty good team. You know, since you’re good at offense and I’m better at defense._

__

**Hmph. I guess.**

Frisk doesn’t say anything more, and instead begins wondering, in the most private part of their mind that belongs to them and them alone, why Chara couldn’t come up with any defense on their own. After all, the only thing they needed to do was think about being protected. It isn’t that hard.

**  
**Chara doesn’t talk for the rest of the evening, and well into the next day. Frisk doesn’t push it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some1 tell mtt that firing lightning bolts at a child is not what hes getting paid by toriel to do


	3. oh man you thought this was gonna be Plotless didnt u

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh! Man! Chara is sad!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes fair warning (since i apparently can't write ANYTHING fluffy & nice w/o royally fucking it up) this chapter largely focuses on chara and shit that they did in the no mercy run so there's spoilers for that and also potential triggers? mostly nightmares and some pretty nasty guilt and stuff

~~_**Let me do it. I can do it-** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

~~_**No, nonononono-** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

~~_**PLEASE LET ME** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

~~_**NONONONONO** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

~~_**YOU PROMISED** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

~~_**WE CAN’T** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

~~_**ASRIEL** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

~~_**CHA-** _ ~~

~~__ ~~

Frisk wakes up with a gasp, one hand pressed flat against their chest. Their heart is racing like they’ve just run a mile and their SOUL is practically _burning_. They squeeze their eyes shut tight, trying to calm down and to shake the dream out of their mind. It was one of Chara’s, they know that much. Damn it, there’s a reason that both of them never sleep at the same time! Dreams almost always leak across the headspace, nightmares even more frequently, and god knows that they both have enough of _those_ on their own.

Still with their eyes shut tight, Frisk calls out internally.

_Chara! Chara, are you awake?_ They rub their chest absently. Their SOUL is still hurting- why? It almost feels like the muscles in their arms do after they hold something heavy for too long- an exhausted kind of burn. Frisk cracks open one eye. _Oh_.

A crop of magical golden flowers has sprung up around the bed, growing almost to the ceiling. Their pale, blank faces droop over a little bit with the weight of their petals, creating a canopy over Frisk’s bed.

_I must have summoned them in my sleep._

__

Still rubbing one hand on their chest, Frisk tries to raise an arm to wipe the flowers away, but finds that they are already holding something. It turns out to be Chara’s weird blood-red sword thing. Wrinkling up their nose, Frisk dissolves it, then makes the flowers disappear as well. Now that the strain on their SOUL has eased, they have room in their head to be seriously worried.

_Chara? I’m serious. Are you awake?_

__

No response. But Frisk can feel them, in the back of the headspace. They’re awake, but they aren’t saying anything.

_Do...you wanna...talk about it, maybe?_ Frisk asks, hesitantly. They never really know how to deal with Chara when they get like this.

**...No.**

_Are you sure? Because that was… pretty scary._

__

**I wasn’t scared.**

_You were scared enough to summon your weapon_ , points out Frisk. _We both know that I didn’t do it._

__

Chara’s silent for a long time. Then, quietly, they ask, **How do you stand me, Frisk?**

_What?_ says Frisk, but they have a sick feeling in their stomach. They’re starting to understand what Chara is getting at, and they do _not_ want to continue down this road.

**You know. How do you. Stand it. Knowing what I did. What I made you. Do.** Chara’s voice is getting choppy, like it only does when they’re really upset. Frisk sighs and falls back down into the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

_It wasn’t in this timeline. It’s not real._

__

**We. Both remember.**

_It’s not important._

__

**It is.** Chara pauses for only the slightest second before they start spilling out a veritable stream of words, stuff that’s obviously been festering in their mind for a while. **When I was alive, I was so, so angry, all of the. Time. And Asriel. He noticed. He was my best friend. And he thought. That he could make it better. If he gave me something to do. So he taught me magic. The sword- that. That was his. At the time. When he fought us he had two and they were bigger but that sword used to be his and I don’t know why it’s mine- ours- mine now and. You shouldn’t have had to see. That dream. It wasn’t for anyone to see. Except me.**

Frisk is shocked. This is definitely the most that they’ve ever heard Chara speak at one time, and it’s also the closest they’ve ever come to an apology. As the silence drags on, Frisk tries to pick out what exactly it is that they want to say. But nothing seems right. There truly _isn’t_ an excuse for what happened in some of the other timelines- some, not all- but there’s also only so much blame that this timeline’s Chara can rightfully take. Frisk isn’t sure exactly how the RESETs work- they haven’t done one in over a year- but they do know that as the RESETs pile up, the older ones start to fade even in memory, until both Frisk and Chara can only remember big moments, and not the little details.

The RESETs create dead timelines. This one, the one that Frisk has chosen, is the one that survived, and the only one that matters now.

They just don’t know how to tell Chara that.

**Thanks. I think I got it,** Chara says dryly, and Frisk realizes with a start of embarrassment that they’ve been thinking out in the open headspace, and not just to themselves.

_Sorry._

__

**Nah, it’s whatever.** Chara seems a little less tense than before, so Frisk thinks that maybe their words helped. **I’m gonna stay awake so you can get some rest, okay? You have school tomorrow.**

_So do you,_ Frisk fake-grumbles, pulling the comforter around themself.

**Yeah, but I can take naps during class.**

Frisk doesn’t reply with actual words, just broadcasts an image of themselves sticking their tongue out. Chara laughs a tiny bit.

**Night, Frisk.**

_Goodnight._

__

The next morning as soon as Frisk wakes up, Chara’s out like a light. It’s a Wednesday, and they’ve overslept by just a little bit. They have to practically inhale their cereal and almost forget to grab the lunch Toriel packed for them before they run out the door and down the street. Their mom has already left for work, since she’s the principal and founder and has a lot of stuff to do, so Frisk can’t get a ride.

They wave to Sans as they dash by his semi-legal hotdog stand (“AUTHENTIC UNDERGROUND MONSTER HOTDOGS” promises the sign) and he looks up, surprised.

“hey, kid! wait a second,” he calls, and Frisk reluctantly stops and waits for him to catch up. It doesn’t take long. He uses a shortcut. “where’re you off to so fast, pal?”

[School.] says Frisk, with a ‘ _duh_ ’ expression on their face.

“ah, right, yeah, that thing,” says Sans, nodding, hands in his pockets. “don’t put much stock in it myself but, uh, whatever floats your boat. anyway, i heard from _somebody_ on the grapevine that _somebody_ is out there learnin’ magic.”

Frisk frowns. [Alphys.]

“yyyyyyyyup.”

[Are you gonna tell my mom?] they ask. They’re not sure if they want Toriel to know about the lessons yet. She might think it’s too dangerous and put a stop to it, or worse- she’ll demand a demonstration. Frisk doesn’t know how she’ll react if she sees Chara’s sword.

“nah, not if you don’t want me too. i don’t like lying to tori but… you usually have good reasons for doing things,” Sans says, fixing them with a Look. It’s a very weird Look, and it’s one that they’ve only ever seen on Sans. It almost seems too knowing, like he’s referencing something bigger than the conversation itself, but it’s also always vague enough that they can never ask him about it directly. It makes Frisk feel uneasy, and whenever Chara sees it they get extremely uncomfortable.

[Cool. Thanks.] they sign. [I’m going to be late.]

“don’t worry about it. i know a shortcut,” says Sans easily, offering them his hand. Frisk smiles and takes it. Sans’ shortcuts are always fun. His pupils flicker out for a second. The world goes black, and it’s like riding the fastest rollercoaster in the world through a dark tunnel. They can feel something like wind, but also like noise, rushing past their face and through their hair.

It’s over much too soon. Frisk blinks a couple times and squints up at Toriel’s school building. MK dashes past them, throwing a quick hello backwards over their shoulder. Frisk waves, and turns to Sans.

[Thanks!]

“don’t mention it, kiddo,” he grins. “and hey, if you ever want some pointers about magic… like special attacks and all that jazz… feel free to ask papyrus. he’s way more into that whole ‘putting effort into things’ gig than i am.”

[Will do.] Frisk says, and heads into school. They slide into their seat seconds before the bell rings, and Mr. Something-Something-Whatever raises an eyebrow at them before beginning the lesson. It’s history. Frisk sighs and begins doodling on their worksheet. They wish Chara was awake, but then again, they _did_ stay up for most of the night… oh well.

_Guess we’re not getting any work done today._

__

The day drags on. Chara sleeps for a _long_ time, which is really unsettling. Frisk isn’t used to it being this quiet up in their head. They struggle through English and Science and they’re halfway through math class when the headspace buzzes with sudden activity.

**You have to carry the four.**

_Good morning to you too._

__

**The four,** repeats Chara, and Frisk sighs, doing what they say. They end up with a nice, neat answer, which is very different from the fractions they had just been preparing themselves to deal with.

Neither of them talk about what happened last night. Conversations like that are okay in the dead of night when your heart is beating much too fast, but not when it’s sunny outside and there’s schoolwork to be done. It’s business as usual for the rest of the day, each of them carefully dancing around the elephant in the room. Maybe if they just ignore it for long enough, it will go away.

It’s only once they’ve started walking back home that Frisk remembers.

_I talked to Sans today_ , they say, and Chara immediately goes cold.

**...Yeah?**

_He knows what we’re doing._ Chara doesn’t even respond in words now, just in a goopy, soupy mix of a million different emotions at once. The surface ones that Frisk is able to pick out are _fear-apprehension-anxiety_. They stop there. Going any deeper would mean acknowledging the elephant.

They walk in silence for another half-block.

_He thinks we should ask Papyrus for a lesson on special attacks_ , continues Frisk. Chara hums indecisively. _Chara?_

**Huh? Yeah. If you want to.**

_We don’t have to right away, you know_. Frisk doesn’t want to make Chara freak out again like they did last night, but the fact remains that the skeleton brothers are the only monsters that either of them have ever met who even _mention_ special attacks. There’s no other way to learn (and boy, does Frisk want to learn).

**No, it’s fine. We can do it this weekend** _,_ Chara says firmly.

 

_If you’re sure…_

__

**It’s fine.**

_Ok_ , says Frisk, and pulls out their cell phone.

_**From: HUMAN !:**_ hi pap i was wondering if you wanted to hang out this weekend?? sans said you might be willing to teach me about special attacks  & stuff

Frisk has barely locked their phone and put it back in their pocket when it beeps with a response. They take it out and read the very enthusiastic that Papyrus as sent them.

_**From: TGP:** _ YES! THAT SOUNDS WONDERFUL! YOU SHOULD COME OVER TO OUR HOUSE AND I, PAPYRUS, WILL TEACH YOU EVERYTHING I KNOW (WHICH IS MOSTLY A CONGLOMERATION OF THINGS THAT UNDYNE AND SANS KNOW!)

Frisk smiles as they read and reread the message, unlocking the front door of their house and stepping inside. They look into the living room for Toriel, but she isn’t there. _That’s odd._ She usually gets home before Frisk on Wednesdays, since she rarely has any after-school meetings.  They consider texting her, but if she really _is_ in a meeting then it will just be distracting for her, and if she’s in the house then it’s unnecessary. So Frisk wanders into the kitchen to see if she’s cooking something.

They think they probably should be more surprised when they see Sans there instead.

**You’ve got to be kidding me.**

“‘sup kid,” he says, looking up from whatever he’s doing on his phone.

[Hi Sans,] Frisk signs politely, but not without some confusion.

“oh, yeah, guess tori didn’t tell you. pta meeting tonight. she won’t be back ‘til late,” Sans explains. “i offered to go in her place but apparently i’m ‘banned’ or whatever, so…” He rolls his eyes and makes some very impressive airquotes around ‘banned’.

[That makes sense.] Frisk grabs an apple from the fridge and sits across from him at the table.

**Can I eat it?** Chara asks. Granny Smiths are their favorite. Frisk gives them partial control absently, still focusing on Sans. There’s a few minutes of silence as Chara works on the apple and Sans turns back to his phone, knowing that Frisk can’t talk while they’re holding food.

Then there’s a lull in Chara’s chewing and Sans must think that they’re done because he says, “so. why’re you learning about magic all of a sudden?”

“None of your business,” mutters Chara using Frisk’s mouth, and all three of them freeze.

**Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit**

_give me back control give me back control oh no oh no_

__

[Oops], Frisk signs. Sans narrows his eyesockets at them.

“kid, did you just speak out loud?”

….[No]....

Sans leans back in his chair slowly. It looks casual, but Chara’s knowledge and Frisk’s intuition both say that it’s a deliberate, calculated move, and that Sans’ guard is now so far up that you couldn’t get over it from the top of Everest.

“the last time i heard your voice was a very long time ago, buddy,” he says quietly. “and, uh, you could also argue that i’ve never heard it before at all.”

**GET OUT OF THERE, FRISK**

[It’s fine, Sans. I’m fine,] Frisk signs frantically, filing away the numerous revelations this conversation is giving them so they can process it all later. Chara is freaking out in the headspace and Frisk needs to get them somewhere calm and quiet and safe so that they can calm down. They can already feel the faintest trace of Chara’s sword at their fingertips. This is not good. [Please, trust me, nothing’s wrong.]

**GO GO GO GO GO**

Sans hums thoughtfully, then stands up. Chara tenses instantly. He looks all around, first at the floor, then the cabinets, then at the table. Finally, he shrugs.

“i sure hope you know what you’re doing, kiddo,” he says, then takes a shortcut out of the kitchen. Frisk can hear him starting to move around in the living room, so they know he’s not gone completely. He just wanted to be dramatic.

Frisk lets out a huge breath and slumps over the table.

_Calm down, Chara. It’s fine._

__

**Fine?! FINE?! NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS FINE, FRISK.**

_So he knows. Big deal. He isn’t doing anything. You’re fine Chara. Remember what I said last night? Remember what we talked about?_

__

**I… Yeah.**

_Good. Just keep thinking about that. Whatever’s going on with Sans, you’re safe, okay? And he’s safe too. Everyone is safe._

__

**Everyone is safe.** Somehow, Chara manages to sound disbelieving. Frisk sends them some positive vibes and leaves them alone to stew around in… whatever it is they’re dealing with. They pull out their phone and text Papyrus again.

_**From: HUMAN !:**_ we still on for this weekend??

**  
_From: TGP:_** ABSOLUTELY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sans. sans youre even worse at babysitting than mettaton
> 
> oh yeah also my family is moving on thursday so uh dont get too used to these daily updates because for a while i wont have internet at All. but there's not much left to the story tbh i'd estimate 2-3 more chapters?? we're abt halfway done.
> 
> OH yeah and explaining that whole thing btwn chara and sans: i hc frisk as selectively mute (obvs) but when chara has control of their body i think they'd speak through frisk's vocal chords. so in a no mercy route, sans would hear frisk's voice. and it would not have any good feelings attached to it for him. what do yall think of that


	4. Get Ready For My Special Attack!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oooohhohohohh shit

The weekend comes much too quickly for Chara and much too slowly for Frisk. Thursday seems to both drag on for a thousand years and be over fast than a blink. When Friday dawns, Frisk can barely contain their excitement, and hops out of bed, only to nearly trip as Chara weighs down on their feet like load of bricks.

_Hey! What’s the deal?_ Frisk asks indignantly. Chara has been behaving pretty well for the past couple of weeks; They didn’t expect such an abrupt return to their more childish tricks.

**I don’t know what you’re talking about** , says Chara airily. **Let’s just go to school.**

_I would love to do that, Chara, if you’d be so kind as to_ get off my feet, Frisk replies, with just the slightest brush of sarcasm. Two can play at this game. There’s a moment of hesitation in the headspace, and then Frisk’s feet are free to move again. _Thanks_.

**Whatever**.

School that day is surprisingly bearable, or it would be, if Chara would just lighten up a little bit. Frisk knows why they’re so bratty today- how could they not?- but it’s annoying. Still, Frisk always tries to see the best in people, and they know that this whiny, stubborn version of Chara is not the only version there is. So they suffer through it. It kinda reminds them of the first few RESETs down in the Underground, back when Frisk didn’t know what in the heck was going on and Chara was still under the impression that they could force themselves into control. The two of them haven’t clashed against each other like this in months.

First period is history, and Chara tries to worm their way into Frisk’s mouth and blurt out the wrong answer to things, like they did in the Ruins when they made Frisk call Toriel _Mom_. Frisk neatly catches them before they can even draw a breath, and calmly gives the correct date in sign language.

Second period is English, and Chara tries to take Frisk’s hands and misspell every word they write. Frisk sighs and writes slower, double checking every letter. They still misspell ‘immediately’, but they don’t know if that was Chara or if they genuinely messed it up. That word always gets them.

Third period is Science, which even Chara can’t find a way to screw with seeing as all they’re doing is taking notes on the upcoming frog dissection next week. Frisk is glad that it isn’t today. They really don’t want to give Chara anything sharp right now, even if it’s just a tiny scalpel.

Lunch is uneventful, except for Frisk getting some petty revenge by taking the vegetarian option in the cafeteria rather than the regular one, which is burgers and fries. Chara loves burgers, and Frisk likes fries, but they’re willing to make a sacrifice if it means sticking one to Chara. They munch on their veggie burger and smile as MK tells them a story, ignoring Chara’s grumbles.

Fourth is Math. There’s a test today, and instead of actively interfering, Chara just steps back and doesn’t say anything for the entire period. Frisk walks out of the classroom with the distinct impression that they failed, and that Chara succeeded.

Fifth period is a study hall, which Chara ruins by utilizing their extensive repertoire of irritating vintage pop music. Honestly, if Frisk never hears ‘Call Me Maybe’ again, it will be too soon.

Last period is P.E., which Frisk was really looking forward to. It’s dodgeball day, and if there’s one thing Frisk is really good at, it’s dodging. It’s the only reason they’re still alive today (literally). They’re so excited, in fact, that they completely forget what mood Chara is in today. As the first red rubber dodgeball flies towards them, they try to move, only to face an unexpected resistance, like there’s a wall or a particularly strong person preventing them from moving in any direction easily. The ball smacks them in the shoulder and Undyne, the gym teacher, blows her whistle.

“You okay, Frisk?” she asks semi-quietly as they pass by her to the bleachers. “You’re usually faster than that. Hell, even I could barely touch you!”

Frisk just shrugs vaguely and sits down. MK gives them a concerned look from the playing field, but quickly gets distracted as the game resumes. Frisk turns their thoughts inward to the headspace.

_Okay, I get that you’re upset, but you don’t have to act like this._

__

**Like what?**

_Chara… We can still cancel._

__

**No. You want to do this. So we’ll do it.**

_But you don’t want to. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable._

__

**Uh, Frisk, newsflash: I’m dead. I can’t ‘feel’ anything.**

Frisk frowns. _That’s not true. We share a body, Chara. I know that you can feel things._ They know that sometimes Chara likes to blame their behavior on their...condition… to save themselves from having to analyze the reasons behind their actions. Frisk tries not to let them get away with it whenever they do it.

**Some things. Not all things.**

Love. Lowercase. That’s the word that Chara is alluding to, the emotion that is just out of their reach. Frisk bites their lip and sighs, deciding not to press Chara any further.

_Just… promise me that if you need to leave, you’ll tell me. In words. Okay?_

__

**...Whatever.**

Frisk takes this as an agreement and leaves Chara alone for the rest of the period, content to simply cheer on MK and the other kids (mostly monsters, with the few humans whose families were liberal enough to enroll them in the school).

After changing out of their gym uniform and into their regular clothes, Frisk exits the school building and waits, leaning up against a wall and crossing their arms against the slight chill in the air. It’s getting closer to wintertime, and the leaves have been falling off the trees with vigor lately.

They don’t have to wait long. At exactly 3:05, Papyrus’ bright red car pulls up in front of the school, the top still down despite the weather. They can see Papyrus himself in the front seat, wearing sunglasses taped to the sides of his skull and a crop top that says ‘AWESOME GUY’ on it, with an arrow pointing up.

“Human!” he calls, waving to them. “It is I, Papyrus! I am here to take you to my house for our very special training session!!”

[Hi Pap!], Frisk signs happily, walking closer to the car. [Thanks for picking me up!]

“It was no trouble at all!” says Papyrus gallantly. Frisk hops into the car and barely has time to buckle their seatbelt before Papyrus nearly floors it, peeling away from the school in a screech of rubber tires on asphalt. Frisk is used to his driving style and also knows that he’s really a pretty good driver, despite the speeds he likes to go at, so they just laugh quietly and enjoy the wind whipping through their hair as the scenery flashes by.

“By the way!” Papyrus yells after a few minutes. “Sans has said that he would like to participate in the training session today! I don’t know why he suddenly wants to put effort into something but I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say!”

Papyrus has his eyes on the road, like a responsible driver, so he cannot turn to look at any signs Frisk might give him in reply, nor does he expect them. So he doesn’t see the way Frisk’s hands suddenly clench, or how their eyes flick down for a second.

When the car pulls into the driveway of Sans and Papyrus’ house, the sun is just brushing the tops of the trees. The warm golden light of the sunset calms Frisk, but only intensifies Chara’s anxiety.

**What if I mess up, Frisk? What if he…**

Ah. So they’re just going to face the elephant head on now.

_You won’t mess up,_ Frisk assures them, following Papyrus into the house. _If you really don’t wanna do it, I’ll take over. We won’t get anything done, but you won’t have to look at him._

**…..Okay.**

“Brother!” Papyrus calls as he leads Frisk into the living room. It’s a little bigger than the one that they had in Snowdin, but all the furniture is the same. Even Sans’ pet rock is there on a side-table, still covered in dusty sprinkles. “I have arrived with the human!”

“oh, sweet,” says Sans appearing very suddenly at the foot of the stairs. “sup, kid?”

[Nothing much], Frisk signs casually, scanning his face for anything out of the ordinary. His wide smile is as impassive as ever. [School was boring today].

“uh-huh. i get that, bud,” he replies, collapsing onto the couch.

“Sans! Don’t get too comfortable!” Papyrus cries. “I only need to change my clothes and then! Then! We can begin training the human for combat!” He clatters up the stairs, laughing quietly to himself.

There’s silence in the living room. Chara is nearly overwhelming Frisk with their barely-contained anxiety, and Sans isn’t doing anything at all. Gingerly, they lower themself to sit next to him. The couch cushion jingles slightly, but they resist the urge to hunt around for the coins that they know are there.

[So-]

“so i don’t know what’s going on with you right now,” Sans begins, not even turning his head to see the signs he’s interrupted. Frisk lets their hands drop back into their lap. They didn’t know what they were going to say, anyway. Golden light streams in through the window. “...but i trust you, kid. you’ve given me no reason to do otherwise.”

Frisk sits quietly. Chara doesn’t say anything. Sans is silent for a couple more seconds, then continues.

“however. if something _does_ go wrong today… heh. i don’t even have’ta tell ya what would happen then, do i?” Sans glances at them, and Frisk notes with relief that his pupils are still lit. He’s not angry. Not yet, at least. “lighten up, buddo,” he says, noticing how pale they must be. “it’s just a training sesh.”

Suddenly, Papyrus comes back downstairs, all done up in his special training outfit. It’s one that he only breaks out for very important occasions, and the only other time Frisk has seen it was back in the Underground when Undyne and Alphys first confessed their feelings to each other.

“WHOO-HOO!!” he shouts, and both Sans and Frisk jump a little bit in surprise. “Let’s go, team!”

“uh. go where, bro?” asks Sans in amusement, hopping down from the couch.

“To a place where we can train, DUH,” says Papyrus, scooping Frisk up under one arm like they weigh nothing. “The park!”

“don’t humans hang out in the park?” Sans points out. “couldn’t it be a little bit unsafe? especially if we’re doing special attacks…” Papyrus literally freezes in place at this realization.

“Oh! What a fool I have been!” he cries dramatically, placing a hand over his forehead. Frisk giggles as they get jostled a bit.

“yeah,” Sans agrees. “you’ve been a bit of a _numbskull_.” He winks at Frisk and they grin. Papyrus groans.

“Ugh! Let’s just use the yard!”

It’s a monsters-only street, so there’s no reason to go out back like at Alphys and Undyne’s house. Besides, Frisk isn’t even sure that the skeletons even have a backyard. They certainly didn’t in the Underground.

“Alright! Here we are! In the yard!” Papyrus announces, setting Frisk down on the front steps of the house. Then he hesitates and starts to look a little sweaty. “To be honest,” he confesses, “I’m not really sure how to teach you about this.”

[What do you mean?] Frisk asks.

“Well…” Papyrus hesitates more and he’s definitely sweating now, no matter how incongruous that might be. “Special attacks aren’t exactly widespread among monsters, for one thing.” He frowns suddenly. “I can’t even remember who Sans and I learned about them from.” He turns to look at his brother, who’s only just made his way outside. “Sans! Who taught us about special attacks? Do you remember?”

Sans twitches a little bit. “uh. no, bro. can’t recall.” It might be a trick of the light, but Frisk thinks that they see his pupils flicker for a half-second.

“Well, whatever!” Papyrus waves away the strange exchange, then places both hands on his hips. “The important thing is! That we know how to do it! And we are going to teach Frisk!”

“right,” agrees Sans, shaking off the weird mood as well.

“Okay! So, special attacks! They’re a bit like regular attacks except that they’re… you know… _special_ ,” Papyrus says. “They’re usually much more powerful than your regular attack, and they take a lot more energy to complete!”

“which is why,” Sans adds, “you only use it if you literally have no options left. and if it doesn’t work… you’re kinda screwed. then again, every special attack is as unique as a regular one. you can modify it and personalize it however you want.” He’s giving Frisk a Look again.

Chara squirms uncomfortably.

“So, to properly demonstrate a special attack, we’re going to need to demonstrate a full battle,” Papyrus continues. “Sans! If you will?”

“sure thing bro,” says Sans, and each brother positions himself on opposite ends of the yard.

“Sans, I challenge you!” Papyrus yells. Sans rolls his eyes.

“pap, we don’t have to go full on traditional with this, you know.”

“It’s the principle of the thing!” Papyrus protests, and Sans caves.

“fine, fine. i, uh, accept your challenge or whatever.” Papyrus sweeps into a deep bow, and Sans inclines his head a little bit. Then the battle starts.

Sans gets first move, and Chara tenses. Frisk gets flashes of what they’re thinking- scraps of bright blue and white flit across the headspace, accompanied by the clatter of bones.

_That’s what he can do?_ Frisk asks curiously. They barely remember anything from runs where Chara was… _in_ _control_ … and they’re kind of shocked that Sans packs such a big punch.

**Uh. Yeah.**

_Whoa_ , Frisk says, and leans backwards a little, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Sans seems to gather himself for a second, then lets out a big breath. He raises a hand…

A single bone pops up from the ground and slowly moves towards Papyrus. They all watch it in silence, Sans’ eyes glowing a benign white. When the bone is within a foot of Papyrus, he takes one step to the side, and it passes by him harmlessly.

**He’s not even trying!** Chara cries indignantly.

“SANS! You’re not even trying!” Papyrus cries indignantly. Sans shrugs.

“bro, if you want me to put in effort, you gotta do something to warrant it,” he says, grinning. Papyrus puffs up like an angry bird at the challenge.

“ALL RIGHT THEN!” he shouts, and one of his eyes gleams orange. A flurry of bones in all different shapes and sizes erupt from the ground, heading towards Sans at different speeds. Frisk holds their breath- _He only has one HP_ \- but Sans doesn’t take a single hit. He seems to be using some kind of combination of shortcuts and familiarity with the attack to dodge every single bone. Frisk is impressed.

“pretty good, bro,” Sans says, not even breaking a sweat. “guess i can do _this_ now.” His eye flickers with the faintest bit of blue fire and instantly a strange animal skull pops into existence next to him.

**Gaster Blaster,** Chara whispers.

It’s smaller than the ones in Chara’s memories, but it’s still impressive, what with all its sharp teeth and the glowing laser that’s currently blasting out of its mouth and straight towards Papyrus. Not even phased, Papyrus raises one hand, and a wall of defensive bones sprout up to block the attack.

“Alright, brother!” he says, lowering the bones. “I will be using my special attack soon! Now is your chance to use mercy and receive it in return!”

“still sticking to tradition, i see,” Sans grins. “i formally do _not_ spare you, bro.”

“Very well!” Papyrus replies. He snaps his fingers and a thing similar to Sans’ blaster appears beside him, except with a longer snout and duller teeth. It fires a series of percussive laser beams at Sans, but he dodges them all, still smiling. The lasers light up the gathering night.

“hey, check this one out,” he says, and the glow of his eye burns a little brighter. Papyrus makes a _hwup!_ sound in surprise as he is yanked sharply- but not _too_ sharply- to one side, set to slam into the wall of the house. In midair, he turns, making sure his boots are the things that connect with the brick, and not his bones. Then he pushes off from the wall and lands gracefully on the ground as Sans’ attack ends.

**He’s going easy on him cos they’re brothers,** Chara grumbles. **That’s not fair.**

_What did you expect?_ Frisk asks. _I think your experiences battling Sans are a little different from this._

__

Chara doesn’t reply. They can feel their sins crawling up their back.

“Here it is!” Papyrus says triumphantly, jolting the both of them back into the present. “My special attack!”

“show it to me, bro,” says Sans encouragingly. He looks at Frisk. “it’s so cool.”

Papyrus closes his eyes, but the orange glow of his magic still leaks out through his skull. He doesn’t move for a good thirty seconds, concentrating with all his might. Then his eyesockets open again (somehow) and he makes a complicated gesture with both hands. There’s a rumbling sound and the ground shakes a little bit. Suddenly, in unison, about a hundred bones burst out of the grass. They aren’t regular bones, however. Their edges are sharper, and they move much faster. They spin through the air like boomerangs, zig-zagging back and forth, impossible to keep track of. Some shapeshift in midair and become tiny Blasters, firing off lasers in Sans’ direction before becoming bones once more.

It’s chaos. It’s pandemonium. It’s anarchy. But at the same time, it isn’t. Papyrus directs his bones in real time, sweeping whole battalions of them left and right and up and down with a flick of his hand. He has complete control over all of them at all times. It’s incredible.

_Oh my god,_ Frisk thinks. _I am_ so _glad that dog grabbed his attack before he could use it on us._

**Um. Same,** Chara agrees faintly. **He’s very powerful.**

Meanwhile, Sans is still dodging like a pro. He moves faster than blinking, switching positions around the lawn faster than Papyrus’ bones can fly. He is everywhere and nowhere at once. Where an attack is, he isn’t. Still, he isn’t perfect. He can’t anticipate every move. Here, Papyrus’ complete control of his magic works in Sans’ favor, although he doesn’t seem to realize it. Frisk counts at least three times where Sans has been the slightest bit too slow and just hair’s breadth away from being clipped by a bone when Papyrus’ eye glows brighter and his hand twitches and that particular bone spins off in an entirely different direction.

It’s just a training session, after all.

Finally, after five frantic minutes, the attack begins to slow down. The bones do not spin through the air as wildly anymore, or with much purpose or intention. Many of them swing wide of Sans by several feet, and still more shatter against the air and disappear. Papyrus looks exhausted. As the last bone fades into nothingness, he drops his arms tiredly, and stumbles a bit. Sans is instantly at his side, supporting him and keeping him from falling over.

“you okay, pap? that was pretty intense.”

[Papyrus! That was awesome!] Frisk signs quickly, making sure they’re in his field of vision. He grins at them.

“Thank you!” he says, but it’s a bit quieter than his normal voice- which is to say, it’s at regular speaking volume. “It’s… been awhile since I’ve done that.” He stands straighter, and only looks a little bit off-balance. “I’m fine, Sans. I just need to rest for a bit!”

“ok,” says Sans, looking unconvinced. “why don’t you go lie down on the couch for a bit? me ‘n’ frisk can finish up the lesson out here, and then we can have a movie night or something.”

“An excellent idea, brother!” Papyrus exclaims, already sounding more like his old self. “I eagerly await hearing of the human’s attacks!” Then he carefully walking back into the house, making sure not to stumble or misstep so Sans doesn’t worry.

**  
**“cool,” Sans says, turning his grinning face to Frisk. Chara shrinks back a little bit. “your turn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pbpbpbpt sorry for the delay in getting this one up! like i said in the notes of the last chapter, my family moved. we only got our internet back at about noon today and i banged this whole thing out by 7 pm in between homework and unpacking and dicking around on tumblr. even with all that, this chapter is a fucking MONSTER (pun intended) and clocks in at nearly 3.5k words
> 
> ((yes that is a w.d. gaster reference but i doubt he'll get mentioned much beyond that))
> 
> also i LOVE the theory that pap is just as powerful as sans and that they have similar attacks like the blasters and shit so that was the main inspiration for this chapter lmao
> 
> and also all that shit about traditional battling is just something i made up because a) if you have a culture that regularly battles itself u might as well lay down some rules and b) pap would totally abide by those rules to the letter during a fight between two monsters (but not w frisk, bc he was frazzled and also how could he expect them to know the rules when theyre a human?)


	5. a mediocre time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cliche title i know

Frisk can feel Chara’s fear and apprehension as Sans casually makes his way back to his side of the yard-turned-battlefield. It rolls in their stomach and puts ice in their veins, and they feel lightheaded.

_Chara. You need to calm down. He’s not going to hurt us._

__

**That’s not what I’m worried about,** is Chara’s clipped reply. They don’t elaborate further, and Frisk doesn’t have any time to pick apart their cryptic answer.

_Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll SAVE here, okay? Not that we’ll need it._ Frisk doesn’t even wait for Chara to agree before they go ahead and do it anyway. They look down at a small flower growing in the grass of the lawn, still standing tall despite Papyrus’ barrage just minutes earlier. It’s strength to stay alive makes them feel determined. The SAVE forms. Chara calms just the tiniest fraction.

“hey kid,” Sans calls from the other side of the yard. “we don’t got all night.”

[Sorry!] they sign quickly, hurrying to the place where Papyrus had been standing. [Can you see my signs from here?]

“if i squint, yeah,” Sans confirms, then rocks back on his heels, the model of someone perfectly at ease. “you ready to get this show on the road?”

Frisk gives him a double thumbs up. Chara feels like they’re gonna barf, and they probably would, except that Frisk is still in complete control.

“cool,” says Sans. Suddenly, Frisk jolts as their SOUL flickers into being outside of their chest. It’s not a painful feeling, just an incredibly strange one. They haven’t felt it in a very long time; The last formal battle they had with a monster was Asriel. “i get first move.”

**Shit**.

_What?_

__

Chara shares a memory, very brief, of Sans’ voice saying something about leading with your strongest attack.

**Get ready.**

Whatever Chara is expecting, it doesn’t come. Sans’ opening attack is barely more intense than the one he used on Papyrus. It’s just a few bones, none of them blue, coming towards Frisk as a medium speed. They jump over them all easily.

**Uh**.

_Told ya so. You’re just paranoid._

__

“ok, kid, now it’s your turn,” Sans prompts, and Frisk realizes they’ve been hesitating. “i wouldn’t go for the special attack just yet, though. kinda something you gotta work up to.”

[Okay,] says Frisk. Chara reluctantly takes control of their arms and almost without any effort at all, the two of them summon their sword. San’s eyesockets widen in surprise.

“damn, kid, you never told me you could do _that_.”

There’s a long minute of hesitation. Chara doesn’t move. The sword tip trembles slightly as their hands shake. Then, somewhere deep, deep down in the headspace, Frisk feels something click. Sans coughs awkwardly.

“you, uh, gonna attack? cos i gotta say, kiddo, the whole ‘do nothing’ thing is kinda _my_ schtick.”

**Trust me, I know,** mutters Chara, almost to themself, then lunges at Sans, swinging the sword in a way that is ingrained, practiced, and horrifyingly natural. He dodges easily, grinning the whole time. Chara lets the sword fall to the ground after just one swing. It dissolves.

“really? just one try?” Sans says. “thought you were more determined than that.”

**Old habits die hard,** Chara replies.

_You know he can’t hear you, right?_ asks Frisk, but gets no answer. Chara’s giving off some weird vibes right now. Some awfully familiar feelings are swirling around in their shared headspace- stuff that Frisk doesn’t even know _when_ Chara last thought about, stuff like HP and ATTK and EXP, constantly being repeated in an endless stream of numbers. **20, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 20, 0, 0.** Frisk doesn’t like it.

“hm. my turn now, huh?” Sans grins. “let’s turn up the heat.” He summons a single Blaster, carving a bright beam of blue-white light through the night. Frisk and Chara switch control seamlessly, and as Frisk raises an arm, up sprout the flowers. The laser is absorbed by them, but true to Sans’ word, Frisk can still feel the warmth. They lower the flowers when they sense that the attack has ended.

[I’m going to use my special attack next turn!] Frisk signs. Sans nods.

“nice. remember, it’s just like attacking normally, except you turn the power up like, 300%. think of it like… uh… cooking with Undyne, or something,” he advises. “it might also be smart to blend it with a bit of defense as well, since it’ll basically be serving as your last chance at victory.” No sooner has he finished talking than Chara has taken back control, almost before Frisk willingly relinquished it. With barely a thought, they summon not one, but two of the swords. Frisk raises a mental eyebrow, torn between congratulating Chara on finally summoning multiple weapons, or sarcastically pointing out the similarity to Asriel’s sabre attack. In the end, they decide to say nothing.

Chara actually growls a little bit as they swipe forward ( _When did they get the vocal chords?_ Frisk wonders suddenly) and two razor sharp blades swish through the air.

(MISS)

(MISS)

“haha whoa, pretty slick, kiddo,” Sans says, and he’s actually laughing. “almost got me there. wasn’t expecting that.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Chara spits out of Frisk’s mouth, and Sans’ pupils completely disappear in surprise. Frisk feels their heart speed up, and they’re not sure if it’s because of their shock or Chara’s sudden anger.

_Chara_.

“you alright there, kid?” Sans says, dangerously quietly. His hands are clenching in his sweatshirt pockets.

_CHARA_.

“Peachy keen.” The words are forced out between gritted teeth, lips peeled back in an animal-like smile, one that’s meant to signal danger rather than joy.

_CHARA, FOR PETE’S SAKE-_ Frisk shouts, and with a herculean effort, takes control. Chara reels back into the headspace, shocked. Sans watches Frisk carefully. His eyes are still dark.

**I- I… I don’t know what just-**

_It’s- it’s fine,_ Frisk interrupts. _Just… get yourself together for the next turn, okay? You’re fine, Chara._

Maybe if they just ignore the elephant, it will go away.

“frisk, if you need to stop…” Sans begins, but Frisk cuts him off.

[Everything is under control. Don’t worry.] They look into his blank eyes and hope that he believes them. Then they widen their stance and free up both of their hands, sending him a look that clearly says, _I’m ready._

“uh… okay,” Sans mutters. He seems a little bit shaken, which is very strange to see. Usually he’s cooler than a metaphorical cucumber. Nothing ever surprises Sans. Except Chara, apparently. Carefully, he takes one hand out of his pocket, like he’s trying to make sure not to spook a scared animal into running away. Chara feels a little spike of irritation at that, but Frisk attempts to tamp it down. One wave of Sans hands later and suddenly a line of bones is heading straight for them, the kind that you have to leap through and duck under.

Frisk’s dodging instincts kick in and they carefully shelter their SOUL in both hands, avoiding every single bone- except one, which conks them on the head as they roll underneath it. It jolts them the way that magical attacks always do, and the stream of numbers in their head switches. **19, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 19.** They don’t like that Chara still hasn’t stopped counting. It’s just a training session.

The elephant is stomping its feet.

“you good, kiddo?” Sans asks, clearly concerned. “sorry, didn’t mean to do that.”

[I’m fine], Frisk assures him. [Ready for my special attack?]

“go for it, bud,” Sans says. He’s still trying to be encouraging, even though he’s quickly getting distracted from the battle and more interested in Frisk themself. “remember what i said, ok?”

[Got it!] Frisk closes their eyes like they’d seen Papyrus do. _Chara. Are you ready?_

__

**Yeah**.

_You good?_

__

**Complicated question.**

_I mean, can you do it?_

__

**Only one way to find out, right?**

Control passes smoothly between the both of them, but then Frisk hesitates. _He said that it should be a mix. Offense and defense working together._

**Oh. How do you want to do this?**

_Uh… let’s just wing it,_ Frisk suggests. They can feel Chara’s eyes rolling, even though that should be impossible.

**Wonderful. Yes. Let’s wing it.**

_Cool_ , Frisk says, and Chara loosens up control a little bit, just enough for Frisk to slip in. It’s a weird sensation. It’s like trying to ride a bike with two people working the handlebars and pedals- complete balance is going to be needed if they’re gonna pull this off.

_Um. Okay._

__

**This is… difficult,** Chara says, struggling to maintain their bit of control. Frisk’s right hand twitches a little bit. They can feel Sans’ eyes on them. **Are you sure this is… the best idea?**

_Nope_ , Frisk replies, then turns to their SOUL. _Let’s do it anyway._ They focus on it like they always do when performing magic, feeling for the threshold that they need to hit before they can summon something. They hit it. The power is buzzes at theirs and Chara’s fingertips, waiting to be shaped into a weapon or a defensive maneuver.

Frisk focuses harder.

The buzzing becomes almost painful now, like the feeling you get when your foot is waking up after a long time asleep. The air crackles. It smells like butterscotch and cinnamon and something else, too, something lighter and sweeter than either of those two scents. Frisk can’t quite put their finger on what it is.

Frisk focuses even harder.

They can feel sweat beading on their forehead and their SOUL is beginning to burn in the way it did after Chara woke them up from that nightmare. The butterscotch-and-cinnamon smell intensifies. So does the other one. Frisk’s hair begins to float upwards from the static electricity surrounding them. They grit their teeth.

The smell is of buttercups.

_Here go_ **es nothing** , say Chara and Frisk together, and they realize that the balance is perfect. They release the SOUL’s energy in a blast of scarlet light, their eyes flying open almost involuntarily. Vaguely, they think they see Sans, take a step back in surprise, but then the red light engulfs everything. _Holy_ **shit**.

The light dies down slightly after a second, its initial burst of energy waning, and Frisk and Chara look around. _A_ **h. Wei** _rd._

It’s not just one weapon. It’s _every_ weapon. Asriel’s swords. Undyne’s spears. Alphys’ electricity bolts and even a few sharp edged-bones. Chara and Frisk have summoned them all, more than fifteen of each, and they’re all hovering in the air, perfectly still, aimed directly at Sans’ heart.

He’s sweating.

_Let_ **’s go.**

In unison, the weapons shoot through the air with precision accuracy. They move almost faster than Frisk or Chara can see, but they can feel every single blade and bolt and bone, like each magical weapon is attached to a string tied to their SOUL. Every movement on the battlefield is registered and comprehended and dealt with in the span of a second, both of their minds working together to handle the incredible load of magic. Still, they can feel that their hold on the attacks is precarious. It’s like galloping on a very fast and unfamiliar horse. One slip, and they’ll lose the reigns.

Sans dodges.

(MISS)

A spear and a electric bolt collide in midair and the spear turns a pleasant shade of green, crackling with newfound energy.

Sans dodges.

(MISS)

A bone slams into a sword and suddenly there’s a double-bladed amalgamate weapon spinning through the air in a pale shade of lilac. It would be almost pretty if Frisk or Chara had time to appreciate it.

Sans dodges.

(MISS)

A bone cracks in half on a spear shaft and instead of disappearing, splits into two bone-handled daggers in a deep cerulean.

Sans dodges, but he seems like he’s slowing down.

(MISS)

Their SOUL is on fire, their hands are full of needles, their lungs are collapsing, and everything smells like buttercups and butterscotch and spice and nighttime.

(MISS)

(MISS)

(MISS)

(MISS)

A bone. One tiny bone, curved like a rib and sharpened like a scythe.

Sans dodges. The bone flies past him and he grins winking.

“what, think i’m just gonna stand here and-”

**WA** _IT-_ Frisk and Chara cry in their mind, but it’s no use. The reigns have slipped. The bone circles back.

1 DAMAGE.

“ow. fuck,” Sans mutters, something red already dripping out of his mouth. His hands go up his chest to grasp at a knife slash that isn’t there. Then one hand wanders over his shoulder and _yanks_ and there’s a very strange crunching sound and then he’s holding the weapon- Frisk and Chara’s weapon- that stabbed him in the back. It looks like it’s been dipped in red paint. He looks up at them. They can feel their mouth hanging open, eyes tearing up, hands outstretched in regret, in mercy, in fear. He coughs.

_No. No. Nonononononono_ **nononononononono**

“hey,” Sans slurs. “no hard feelings.” And then he turns to dust.

All of the other attacks collapse in unison, shattering on the ground or the air or on each other. Frisk vaguely feels themself fall to their knees. Chara thinks they might be screaming out loud. It smells only of buttercups, now.

_What did we-_

**What did I-**

_**-DO?** _

__

_No, no, this can’t be happening, Sans isn’t-_

__

**Stupid, stupid, STUPID how could I have-**

_This is a prank it’s a prank he’s joking he’s pranking us-_

__

Suddenly, as one, they remember.

_**The SAVE file.** _

__

It takes a second to slow down and organize their collective thoughts, especially because Chara is very far from calm. Frisk is too, but they aren’t freaking out to the level Chara is.

**I’m so stupid I’m so awful fuck fuck FUCK how could I be so dumb-**

_Chara!_

__

**People can’t change, people can’t change, I can’t change, I’m stuck like this, I’m so fucking STUPID-**

_CHARA!_ Frisk yells in their mind for the second time that night, trying to ignore the sight of Sans’ grey dust piled on the ripped-up lawn. _We can go back. We NEED to go back._

__

**Go back. Go back?** Chara echoes, seemingly hardly aware of what Frisk is saying. **I can never go back I can never- But what if.** The train of thought stops there, abruptly, like Chara doesn’t want Frisk to hear the end of that sentence.

_Yes. Go back. I SAVED. We just have to go back, and he’ll be FINE, okay?_ Frisk’s hands are shaking, and they know it’s them and not Chara. God, they’re so, so scared. They really might throw up. _Chara, I need you to help me. I can’t- I can’t do it alone I can’t-_

__

**Okay**. Chara seems to pull themself together suddenly. **Okay. Let’s go.**

They both take a deep breath and

“hey kid. we don’t got all night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA


	6. back and forth

“kid?” Sans repeats. It’s been twenty seconds and Frisk still hasn’t moved from the SAVE point. They can feel tears pricking at their eyes, their vision going blurry. Chara is saying something, but they’re not paying attention. _He’s alive._ “kid, is something wrong?” says Sans, and Frisk feels the tears spill down their cheeks, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. It’s been awhile since they’ve cried like this. _He’s alive, he’s alive, oh my god…_

__

**Frisk. Listen to me.** Chara’s voice sounds strained, like they’re putting in way too much effort to sound normal.

“kiddo?”

_He’s okay._

__

**Frisk. You need to listen. You need to stop crying. Frisk.** Chara’s voice is starting to grow in volume. Their nervousness is obvious now, but Frisk can’t fathom its cause. **Come on, don’t be such a crybaby. Shit, I had to deal with this enough back when As-... Stop crying.**

Frisk just shakes their head, the tears still flowing. They can hear Sans approaching them and they feel grateful for a second because he’s obviously trying to make himself be heard, and heis moving slowly enough that they can move away if they want to. They appreciate that.

“frisk? c’mon, bud, tell me what’s up.” They can feel one boney hand on their shoulder and they turn around instantly, sniffling. Sans will make it all okay. Sans will help them feel better. He takes one look at their face and instantly steps back, confusion and the slightest touch of fear in his eyes.

[Sans?] they sign. They don’t know what’s going on. [Sans?]

“what happened.” His voice is flat, expressionless. Frisk gulps.

[What?] they ask, trying to play dumb. Chara laughs shakily.

**I forgot that he does this.**

“you saved, didn’t you?” Sans asks, and he’s definitely moving more towards fear. “you saved, which means something happened. something’s about to go wrong, right?” He takes another step back. “frisk, what did you do?” His eye is glowing blue and he doesn’t even seem to notice.

Frisk can’t even sign anything, they’re so shaken. They stare at him in shock, shaking their head numbly. The air smells like potato chips and snow.

Chara is getting agitated. **Frisk. We gotta get out of here RIGHT NOW.**

_No! It’s just Sans, Chara. He’s not gonna… he’s not gonna…hurt us…_ Frisk bitterly thinks back to the last SAVE where they said these exact same words.

 

**Yeah, and look what happened then,** snaps Chara. Sans is still staring at them, wide-eyed. **Listen, just- If you don’t wanna run... I know what I’m doing here, okay? I know how to handle him.**

Frisk jerks away from Chara’s voice like they’re a physical presence. It must look very strange to Sans.

_NO. I know what you mean by that, you know._ Frisk feels sick. This is exactly how it started, back in the Underground. Chara would say, **let me handle it** , and Frisk would let them, because they didn’t know any better, and before they knew it… They shake their head sharply. _We killed him once. We’re NOT doing it again._

**I wasn't suggesting that.**

 

“kid, please say something to me right now- anything, c’mon. i’m, uh, i’m a little on edge here,” says Sans. Frisk looks at him- ‘on edge’ is an understatement. His magic is barely being kept in check, held back from actually becoming an attack, but it curls through the air like blue smoke, lighting up his hands and face with an eerie glow.

**I wouldn’t hurt him.**

_You can’t promise that,_ Frisk says tersely. They’ve stopped crying now. Their tears are drying uncomfortably on their face. Chara doesn’t reply for a second, and the headspace trembles with some strange emotion that Frisk can’t identify.

**You’re right. I can’t.** Chara sounds strangely distant and dull. **I’m not good, Frisk.** They can vaguely remember Chara saying something similar to that a long time ago. **No matter how much I try. I’m not good.**

“stop staring at me,” says Sans. Frisk realizes that they’ve been looking at him blankly for at least thirty seconds, consumed with the conversation in their head. “seriously, frisk, if this is a prank… well, it might be kinda funny. if it was. but i get the feeling that it isn’t.”

_Chara, can we please put this on hold? We’re- we’re scaring him._

__

**Not ‘we’. I am. You’re not the scary one here, Frisk.**

_Chara…_

__

“kid. pal. buddy,” Sans tries, curling his hands into fists to keep his skittish magic contained. “come back to me.”

**As long as I’m around, you’re always gonna have to SAVE. As long as I’m around, you’re always going to be afraid. Afraid of what I’m gonna do. And I’m gonna have some good days, yeah, but the rest will be bad.** **One day, I’ll snap again. It will be like before.**  Chara doesn’t even sound upset. They sound like they’re reading from a particularly dry textbook, stating the boring and uninteresting facts of life. Uncontrollable. Unchangeable.

_What are you talking about?_ Frisk asks desperately.

“ok, frisk, i’m- i’m gonna call toriel. maybe this whole thing is a bad idea.” Sans pulls out his phone. “sorry about breaking our promise but, uh, you know. i’m not big on those, anyways.”

**Frisk, don’t you get it?** Chara asks. **I have to go back. Back to where it started. And I have to find a way to leave you alone.**

“just hang tight, ok kid? we’re gonna figure this whole thing out.”

_Please tell me you’re not talking about what I think you’re talking about_ , Frisk says. They’re trembling. They hope Chara will laugh at the awkward phrasing of the sentence, and that the tension will break, and everything will be okay, but nothing happens. Chara just lets out a tiny, regretful sigh.

**Hey, Frisk?** They say quietly. **I’m sorry.**

Frisk doesn’t even have time to reply before there is a sickening lurch throughout the headspace and they experience something that is close to the sensation of falling off a bike. It’s sudden, painful, and scary, and even before the tumult in their mind has settled, Frisk knows what happened. Chara took control. They actually _took_ it, forced themselves into the pilot seat and threw Frisk to the curb. This hasn’t happened in a _very_ long time, and it’s yet another piece of evidence from the past few hours that Chara is returning to old habits.

_Let me back in!_ Frisk shouts, but they might as well be screaming at a brick wall. They try to flex their body’s fingers, to move their hands and sign to Sans for help, but nothing happens. They try to reach their SAVE file. Nothing happens. They shout again. Nothing.

They’re stuck.

“uh,” says Sans, hesitating in pressing the ‘call’ button on his phone. He looks at Frisk- Chara, now- searchingly. He seems to sense that something is different. “whoa. yeah. i’m definitely calling tori for this.”

“Don’t bother,” whispers Chara. Frisk can feel their shock and surprise that their maneuver actually worked- and why should it have? Chara being in control was something that just _didn’t happen,_ not in this timeline. “I won’t be a problem.”

Sans’ smile seems sharper, somehow. “you’re not frisk, are you?” Chara doesn’t answer. He shakes his head slightly. “no… you. you’re the other one. you’re the might-have-been.” His eyes go dark. “Y o u  s h o u l d n ‘ t  e x i s t .”

“Right,” says Chara, nodding. “That’s the idea.” And then they turn on their heel and run. Frisk cries out in surprise at the sudden movement. As weird as it is to not be in control of their body while standing still, it’s doubly strange when they’re moving. They can feel their feet pounding against the ground, the wind rushing past their face, but they can’t do anything about it.

_Let me back in let me back in let me in let me in let me-_

__

“Geez,” Chara pants, not slowing down a fraction. They’re approaching an intersection now, but there’s no cars in the road. “Was I this annoying when I was stuck in there?”

_What are you doing let me in let me in what are you doing what are you-_ Frisk doesn’t even try to slow down their thoughts to something understandable now. They’re trying to distract Chara, get them to slip up, to lose control. It’s an old strategy that they thought they’d never have to use again.

Chara glances behind them for signs of pursuit, but the street is empty. Still, that doesn’t mean they’re not being followed. Far up ahead, they can see the taillights of a bus.

“Hey Frisk, you got any change?” they wonder absently. Frisk just slams into them again in frustration and anger. Chara slows down to a fast walk, digging one hand into their pocket. “Oh. Nice.” It’s just a little more than a one way bus fare in quarters.

“hey,” says a voice from just behind them, and Chara yelps in surprise, whipping around to see Sans standing there, smiling as always. “where you off to so fast, kiddo?”

“Shit,” Chara mutters, and books it again. They reach for their weapon as they run, but it doesn’t appear. “Shit!” Frisk allows themself to feel a little bit smug.

_Running low on SOUL power?_ they ask innocently, and Chara actually yells in anger, sprinting down the street after the retreating bus.

“I’m trying to help you, Frisk, damn it!” they shout, gasping for air. Frisk’s body isn’t exactly built for this kind of thing.

“yikes. you know, they say that talking to yourself is never a good sign,” says Sans, strolling alongside Chara leisurely. He appears to just be walking, but the way that his outline keeps flickering reveals that he’s teleporting rapidly in order to keep up with them.

“Shut up!” Chara shouts. “Go away!”

“i’d love to,” he replies. “and in fact, i think i will. if only to go get undyne and the others. _tibia_ honest, i don’t think i can handle this on my own.” He winks at them and Chara nearly forgets themself, almost cracking a smile. Then they remember where they are, who they’re with, and who they themself are. They wipe their face blank and keep running. Sans shrugs. “tough crowd.” Then he disappears again.

“Ugh,” Chara huffs. “This was easier when I could just kill him.”

_So why don’t you?_ Frisk asks. They’re genuinely confused. Chara is in control- even without their magic, they’re still formidable. And Sans only has one HP. One sharp swing at him with intent to kill and he’d shatter.

“I- because- I’m-” stutters Chara, slowing down. The bus pulls farther ahead of them. “That’s not what I’m-”

_No, you’re just trying to hitchhike back to Mt. Ebott because you think you’re too dangerous to stay here. If you’re so dangerous Chara, why don’t you prove it?_ Frisk presses, sensing an opening.

“How’d you know where I was-”

_Honestly, Chara, I’m not an idiot, no matter what Flowey used to say._

__

“...You know what happens when I ‘prove it’,” Chara says quietly, kicking a rock between their feet. They’re barely moving forward anymore.

Frisk sighs. It feels weird to do that without any lungs, but they manage. _Chara, do you remember what I said to you after that nightmare you had?_

__

“‘This is the only timeline that matters’,” Chara recites. Frisk is a little surprised that they remember it nearly word for word. “And I would believe you, Frisk, but… I _killed him_.”

_No_. Frisk feels a little nauseous as they push the next words out, but it’s the truth, so they persevere. _We did. Together. Our magic was working in sync, Chara. If there’s any blame to be had, you need to put it on both of us._

“No, that’s not how it works,” Chara protests. “I’m the bad one, Frisk. You’re the pacifist.”

_I doubt there is a single human being or monster in the world who can fit in boxes that small_ , says Frisk. _Let alone two_. They are silent for a moment, working out what they want to say. _Listen. We both messed up. Maybe we took this magic thing a little too far with all that special attack junk. But panicking isn’t going to solve ANYTHING, okay? Just… give me back control. Let me fix this._

__

Chara stops walking. The night air is cool and crisp against their skin, and doesn’t smell like anything at all. They breathe in deeply, enjoying the cold rush through their lungs and back out their nose. Then they smile weakly.

**Okay.**

There’s a feeling like a balloon popping and all of a sudden it’s _Frisk’s_ feet on the sidewalk, and _Frisk’s_ hands curled around the sleeves of their striped sweater, and Chara has retreated back into the headspace, folding themself up as small as they can manage and remaining perfectly silent.

“oh, are we done running now?” Sans’ voice makes Frisk jump, but unlike Chara, they don’t let out a sound. They turn around and face him without prompting. His smile suddenly seems much more sincere. “oh, hey there frisk. i was wondering where you _ran off to_.” They raise an eyebrow at him. “heh. yeah, wasn’t my best.”

[I have a question].

“um. shoot, i guess,” says Sans.

[Would you be okay if I loaded the last SAVE again?] Frisk asks. It seems that Sans has at least a partial awareness of when time is being messed with. They don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

He seems to be struck dumb by the question. His eyes flit left and right as if searching for a clever pun or an alternate subject that could get him out of the conversation, but nothing presents itself to him. After a few seconds, he sighs. “you really think that would be the best option?”

[Less stress. Less mess], signs Frisk. Honestly, that lazy movie night with Papyrus that Sans had mentioned sounds pretty good right now. [But if you’re really against it, I won’t. It’s not fair to you.]

“uh, gee, kid…” Sans rubs the back of his skull awkwardly. “not really sure how to answer, honestly.” He hesitates for a second more. “fine. it’s cool. on one condition.”

[Which is?]

Sans turns serious for a moment. “that other thing in your head? don’t let it do that again.”

[Their name is Chara], says Frisk. [And I won’t].

Then they close their eyes and reach out to their SOUL and-

“hey, kid. we don’t got all night.”

Frisk looks up from the little flower on the lawn and turns around to Sans, who is fifteen or so feet away at the other end of the yard. He looks confused for a second.

“what’s that look for? aren’t you ready?”

[Sans?] Frisk signs. [I think I changed my mind. I don’t want to do this].

Sans hesitates for a second, then nods, almost like he’d been expecting that. “it’s cool, dude. i’m bone-tired anyway.” He starts walking back into the house, and throws Frisk a Look over his shoulder has he passes them. “you good?”

[Complicated question. But yes.]

**  
**“sweet. let’s go see if papyrus will let us watch a pg-13 movie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha idk if i got this one exactly right but i hope the message i was trying to convey abt chara & frisk came through????? uhhh
> 
> also there's like 1 more chapter after this and then an epilogue MAYBE idk
> 
> help me i have an ib psychology test tomorrow and im fucking around writing abt time traveling kids sharing a body and running away from a Bone Man


	7. cooldown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blatant references to a silly novel and also some good vibes hopefully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i lied theres one more chapter after this one plus an epilogue so dont worry ur butts if the ending to this one sounds too final...ive got it under control

Frisk stares at their math homework. It remains stubbornly unfinished. This is ridiculous. They’ve faced down a _God of Absolute Hyperdeath_ and survived, only to be stumped by the Pythagorean Theorem. To be fair, the ‘God of Hyperdeath’ had just been Asriel being dramatic but _still_.

_Chara? A little help?_ They ask, but receive no response. They sigh. They don’t know what they had been expecting. Chara has been completely silent for the past week, not even speaking up when Frisk had tried things like eating their favorite foods or listening to their favorite songs. They’re still there- Frisk’s head still feels full with the weight of two minds- but they’ve been taking extra care to keep all of their thoughts, feelings, and comments completely contained.

Frisk thinks they might be sulking.

Anyway. Math homework. The numbers stare up at them mockingly, and Frisk groans. Then they slowly let their head drop down to rest again the cool wood of the kitchen table. Toriel pauses in her cooking to give them a sympathetic smile.

“Do you need help, my child?” she asks. Frisk shakes their head slightly. “Alright then.” She calmly turns back to the pie she is making. It’s sweet potato tonight, with a few marshmallows sprinkled on top of the crust as a treat, since it’s a Friday. Suddenly, Frisk’s head shoots up as their phone buzzes with a text message. They quickly unlock it.

_**From: Mega Kool:**_ Yo how’s your magic coming on last i heard you were doing something with mtt and blook question mark

Frisk smiles at the end of the sentence. MK has to use a voice-to-text program to write anything electronically, but punctuation doesn’t really come through. Frisk gets a lot of texts ending in ‘question mark’ or ‘exclamation point exclamation point exclamation point’. They check to make sure Toriel isn’t watching them (they’re technically not supposed to be on their phone while doing homework) and quickly tap out a reply.

_**From: Frisky Business:**_ yeah! defense magic. that was a while ago tho and that plus attk magic is pretty much all i learned so far :/

_**From: Mega Kool:** _ Oh same yo you should come over some time and show me what you got colon parentheses

_**From: Mega Kool:** _ The worst part of texting is i can’t do emojis colon backwards parentheses

_**From: Frisky Business:**_ :( :’( B(

_**From: Mega Kool:**_ Rude

“Frisk…” says Toriel benignly, looking at their phone. They blush in embarrassment and quickly send one last text to MK before placing their phone face-down on the table.

_**From: Frisky Business:**_ I have to go now cuz im doing hw :(((( text me l8r!!!!

_**From: Mega Kool:**_ k dude

It takes them another half-hour to finish their homework, and by that time dinner is nearly ready (Toriel’s fire magic cooks things much faster than a regular stove). Frisk hurriedly scoops up all their papers and stuffs them in their bag as Toriel sets the table. The two of them are alone for dinner tonight, so it doesn’t take long.

“Who were you texting, Frisk?” she asks, bringing the pie to the table. Her hands are smoking slightly, keeping the food piping hot. Frisk briefly wonders if she could teach them to do that too, but shakes the thought out of their head. _Not the time._

[Just MK], they sign.

“May I ask what it was about?” Toriel says, cutting first Frisk and then herself generous slices of pie. It smells delicious.

[Nothing important]. Frisk doesn’t like lying to Toriel. It feels wrong. But still, they don’t want to let her know about their magic; she might get angry. Maybe not angry. But disappointed, definitely. The last thing Frisk wants to do is make their adopted mother _disappointed_ , or concerned for their safety (which is worse). Still, the lie settles in their stomach like a rock.

“Oh. Okay,” Toriel replies, and they both begin eating. All conversation stops, since Frisk’s hands are occupied.

_It’s sweet potato pie tonight. You like sweet potatoes, right? Or maybe you don’t. I never asked. Maybe you have no opinion,_ Frisk says. They see no reason to ignore Chara even if Chara is ignoring them. _Still. You should probably stop sulking before we go hang out with MK. I don’t think they’re going to be very impressed if all I can do is grow some flowers._ Still no answer. What a surprise. Well. You’ve got until, like, tomorrow.

After dinner, Frisk texts MK again. The two of them decide to hang out the next day around noon, and after each of them confirm with their respective mothers, it’s final. Frisk doesn’t try to inform Chara about what’s happening. They’re listening in, anyway, so it would probably be redundant. Still, redundancy might annoy them into talking… Frisk scraps that idea. Chara’s too smart for that.

Before they go to bed that night, they finish up the second-to-last chapter of the book Chara had been reading right before they decided to go into hiding. It’s kind of a weird story. It’s about an angel and a demon and the apocalypse and some kids who try to stop it. Frisk is 90% sure that it might be a little bit on the inappropriate side for kids their age. Still, it’s really funny. They like the kid named Adam the most. He reminds them a bit of themself. But that’s not really why Chara was reading it, they don’t think. Anyway, they hope that Chara is paying enough attention to what Frisk is seeing so that they can read the ending later.

They finish the chapter and rub their eyes tiredly.  _Well. Goodnight, Chara._ Then they turn off their bedside lamp and snuggle down into the covers.

 

They have a dream that night. They’re walking through a field. It’s barren, except for a few tufts of ugly gray-green grass and a bright spot of yellow on the horizon. The sky is sepia brown. They walk closer to the yellow thing and realize that it is actually _two_ things- a small yellow flower, and a child in a green and yellow sweater kneeling in front of it. Frisk feels their heart speed up. The child looks so familiar, yet at the same time Frisk is sure they’ve never seen them before. They slow down, not wanting to alert either of the beings to their presence. The child is saying something to the flower. Frisk strains to hear.

“ **...keeps trying to talk to me** ,” they mutter, and Frisk’s eyes- even though it’s just a dream- widen in surprise. _Chara_. They hold one hand over their mouth and crouch down amid the scrubby grass. _That’s Chara_. They’ve never seen them before. There are no photos of them around the house- Frisk has looked. Even in all the videotapes Alphys had had down in her lab, Chara had never been in front of the camera when the lense cap was off. “ **It’s stupid, but… I can’t say anything to them, not yet. I don’t think they really wanna hear from me, anyways.** ”

_They’re talking about me._

__

Chara sighs and tucks some of their red-brown hair behind one ear. Their fingers seem slightly dusty, for whatever reason. The flower that they are talking to does not say anything, nor does it move.

“ **I’m still not a good person. Or, like, a sane one,** ” Chara continues, with a dry laugh. “ **I mean, look at me. I’m talking to a fucking flower in a dreamscape like it can actually… reply…** ” Their lips are quirked up in a weird little smile, but it seems more like the fault of genetics than of any conscious decision. Frisk doesn’t think that they’re very happy. Chara reaches out one hand and lightly brushes one of the flower’s yellow petals. It instantly shrivels and turns the same gray-green as the grass. Chara jerks their hand back. Their tiny smile looks pained. “ **Geez, Asriel… always so delicate…** ” They look down and fiddle with the ragged edge of their sweater sleeve. “ **Ha ha… who am I kidding. You’re not Asriel. You’re not even a pretend-Asriel. You’re a pretend-Flowey.” Their shoulders slump. “Just like I’m a pretend-human.** ”

Frisk’s heart aches for Chara. Before they can realize what a _colossally bad idea_ it is to make Chara aware of their presence, they stand up.

_You can’t seriously think that._ Here, in the dream-space, their thoughts can be heard by the two of them just as easily as when they are awake. Chara jerks in surprise, looking up at Frisk so fast that they tip backwards off their knees and fall on their butt.

“ **Frisk?! What are you- How’d you- Ugh. Whatever. I don’t even care** ,” they grumble, standing up and brushing off the back of their shorts. Their legs are covered in multicolored band-aids.

Frisk can’t really think of anything to say, so they blurt out, _We really do kinda look alike._

“ **Oh, yeah, you’ve never seen me before** ,” Chara remembers. They spread their arms wide and strike a sarcastically showy pose. “ **Well. Ta-daaa. Check it out. The whole miserable package.** ” They spin around, gesturing to the drab landscape. “ **Welcome to my crib.** ”

_Do you really think you’re not human?_ Frisk asks, jumping back to the first topic. Chara rolls their eyes.

“ **It’s rude to eavesdrop, Frisk. I’m disappointed in you.** ” Then they glance down at the motionless flower and scuff one sneaker toe into the dirt. “ **But yeah, kinda.** ”

_I don’t- I can’t believe- Chara, that’s dumb._ Frisk runs one hand through their hair, making it even messier than it already is. Chara’s spluttering indignantly, but Frisk waves away their protests. _You’re human. End of story. I’m not debating this with you._

__

“ **Is a dead human really human? Do they even really exist?** ” Chara muses, bending down to pluck a dull buttercup that’s suddenly appeared at their feet. “ **Kinda like Schrödinger’s cat, in a way.** ”

_I don’t know what that is_ , says Frisk, crossing their arms. _And I just said I wasn’t debating this._

“ **It’s a discussion** ,” Chara replies, sniffing the flower. “ **Nothing wrong with a little healthy discussion.** ”

_You’re trying to distract me._

__

“ **Why would I do that?** ” Chara asks, their half-smile growing into an innocent grin. Frisk is reminded, inexplicably, of Sans.

_‘Cause you don’t want me asking you questions,_ Frisk says, barely keeping their frustration contained. Talking in circles is not very high on their list of favorite things to do. They frown as Chara starts peeling the petals off of the buttercup. _Why have you been avoiding me?_

“ **Haven’t** ,” Chara mutters vaguely. They won’t meet Frisk’s eyes.

_Have so._

__

“ **Have not.** ”

_Have SO._

__

“ **...Okay, so maybe I have been. What’s the point?** ” Chara drops the now-bare flower stem to the ground and crushes it under one foot. “ **You don’t really need me that much, anyways.** ”

_Do too. I’m gonna fail math unless you come back_ , says Frisk. They hate playing the ‘I need your help’ card, but they also know that Chara has a lot of pride. They won’t be able to resist this.

“ **So get a tutor.** ” …..Or maybe they will.

_I need you so that we can show MK our magic tomorrow,_ Frisk tries. They don’t think that Chara holds any soft spot in their heart for MK, but they are a bit of a show-off. Maybe this will…

“ **I don’t care.** ”

New plan.

_Chara. I… ugh. It feels weird without you in my head. Please come back._ Sentiment. Probably their most desperate tack yet.

“ **You… miss me?** ” Chara seems unbelieving. Frisk can’t really blame them. It does sound like a stretch.

_Ye-e-es_ , they say, drawing out the word and wincing a little. This is a very embarrassing conversation. _A little. And I wasn’t joking about the math thing._

“ **Ha. You’re weird, Frisk** ,” says Chara, but they seem pleased. They look at the sepia-toned sky above them. There is the slightest touch of lighter brown at the edges of it. “ **Oh. We’re waking up. Gross.** ”

_Are you going to come back?_ Frisk asks again, taking a small step towards Chara. They’re becoming more aware of their body now, lying in bed, but they’re not leaving without an answer. Chara sighs ruefully.

“ **Pfft. Yeah. Okay. You’re really persistent, you know that?** ”

Before Frisk can reply, they wake up. They roll over and check the time on their phone. 7:30 am on a Saturday. _Great_. It’s too early to be fully awake and too late to have any hope of going back to sleep, so Frisk just lies there. They can remember every detail from their dream like it was a memory.

Chara looks… different from what they expected. To be honest, they hadn’t really _had_ any expectations. They’d never really thought about what color eyes Chara had (red, and wasn’t that neat?) or how tall they were (exactly the same height as Frisk). It felt weird to know those things now. It made Chara seem more… real, somehow. Not that they hadn’t felt real before. But now, with a face to put to the voice in their head… it was different. Chara had been a real kid. A living kid. They always cracked jokes about being dead and stuff, but Frisk had never really realized what that meant before. Chara had _died_. Their SOUL had shattered. They’d been buried. And then… They’d woken up in Frisk’s head.

What a strange series of events.

**Hey, don’t get all mushy on me here.**

Frisk perked up a bit. _Chara! You came back!_

**I said I would, didn’t I?** says Chara, sounding a little put out. **You didn’t believe me, did you?**

_Of course I believed you_ , Frisk replies placatingly. _Just didn’t expect you to show up so soon is all._ They sigh, sitting up in bed. Their phone reads 7:38. _Hm. I guess I should get dressed now. Or something._

__

**Don’t let me keep you,** Chara says, and retreats back into the headspace to give Frisk some privacy. It’s just common courtesy.

At eight o’clock, Toriel comes downstairs to find Frisk sitting at the kitchen table, eating a green apple and reading the last chapter of a book.

“Hello, dear,” she says, dropping a kiss on the top of their head. They smile up at her before turning back to their story. “You’re going to your friend’s house today, correct?” They nod. “Would you like me to drive you there?” They nod again. She smiles at them, pulling out the ingredients for oatmeal. “Would you like some?”

_You want some oatmeal?_

__

**Huh? Oh, uh, sure.**

_Brown sugar?_

__

**Yeah.**

Frisk nods for a third time and points to the brown sugar packet with one hand, the other keeping their book propped open. Toriel hums quietly as she boils the water in seconds with a controlled jet of fire magic and stirs in first the oats, then the sugar. It’s a familiar song. Frisk can play it on the piano.

**Hm** , says Chara, almost to themself. **I kinda missed this.**

**  
**Frisk smiles, and takes another bite of their apple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah can you tell i like good omens by neil gaiman and terry pratchett
> 
> i had my psych test today and honestly, i am drained. i am weary. but still i came home and i wrote this 4 u guys cos im actually getting a ton of positive responses??? yall are too kind tibia honest
> 
> whoo hoo i have a math test tomorrow ahahahahah kill me


	8. kids these days...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning for: two major injuries that are not described in detail but still play a prominent role, one being a broken arm and the other a concussion
> 
> keep in mind that i've never broken an arm but i HAVE had a concussion so. one thing might be more accurate than the other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, before any of you guys start reading this chapter, I just gotta say something. Thank you. So much. This fic just surpassed my old OTGW fic 'Different' as my most kudos'd fic and honestly I'm floored. I'm amazed. I'm so happy with all of the positive responses and love I've received in regards to this story.
> 
> It's 1 am i thin k im allowed to be mushy

At around eleven thirty, Toriel and Frisk get into Toriel’s pristine white minivan and drive to MK’s house. It’s a ways away, in a part of town that is more solidly monster than human (as opposed to their 75-25 human-monster split area). The distance to MK’s house might also explain why they are almost late to school every single day. When they arrive, Toriel walks Frisk to the front door and talks to MK’s mom for a minute, a short lizard monster just like her child (although a slightly deeper shade of orange, and with two arms). Then Toriel gives Frisk a fuzzy kiss on the top of their head and leaves.

“MK is upstairs, dear,” says Monster Mom (as Frisk jokingly calls her in their head, although they’re sure she has a real name). “You can just run on up. Lunch is in a couple hours, by the way- we’re experimenting with human food. So that should be fun!” Frisk smiles up at her and signs an agreement, before dashing up the stairs to see their friend. They can hear MK’s sister’s music blasting from her room down the hall. It’s some human band. The person singing doesn’t sound very happy.

“Frisk!” MK cries, as Frisk pushes open their bedroom door. It’s a swinging door like the kind in restaurants, so that MK can open it easily.

[Hi!] says Frisk. They love how enthusiastic MK always is, even though they knew that Frisk was coming over.

“Yo, I haven’t seen you in _forever_ ,” exclaims MK, hopping out of their desk chair and running over to gently headbutt Frisk, which is their version of a hug.

**We saw them at school on Friday, which was yesterday** , Chara notes dryly.

_Oh, hush._

__

[How have you been?] Frisk asks. [How has your day gone?]

“Pretty good, yo! I was just doing some homework.” MK uses their head to gesture at their desk, which has some math homework and a pencil with deep tooth marks on it. Frisk wrinkles up their nose in sympathy.

[What do you want to do? Do you still want to do magic?] Frisk hopes they still do. They want to see how MK’s magic has been coming along (and they kinda want to show off a little as well).

“Of _course_ I do!” says MK, with undying enthusiasm. “Yo, we can just do it in here. I don’t think my mom would, um, like us doing this.”

[Why?]

“She’d say it’s too dangerous, yo. And she might tell _your_ mom. And I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me!” MK looks genuinely concerned at the thought of Toriel getting angry. Frisk smiles, but secretly feels relieved that MK has figured out the whole ‘Toriel not knowing about Frisk’s magic’ situation. They weren’t sure how they had been going to explain it if they had been asked.

[Thank you], they sign, and they really, really mean it. Chara feels faintly relieved as well, their thoughts bleeding into the headspace like a drizzle of rain after a month long drought. Frisk is glad that they’re sticking to their promise and opening up again. They hadn’t realized how _silent_ their head had been during Chara’s self-imposed exile.

“It’s no biggie,” MK assures them. “Anyway! You wanna do this, or what, yo?” They do a little hop-skip-step towards the center of the room and Frisk realizes that they’ve already cleared out a nice open space. It’s not a battle, so instead of taking opposite sides, they both stand on the outer edges of the space next to each other, ready to toss their magic into it.

[You first], Frisk says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. What if Chara’s attack isn’t as cool as MK’s? What if Frisk’s defense isn’t as interesting?

**Please, Frisk,** says Chara. **We both know that my attack is on- _point_.**

_Ha-ha,_ Frisk replies, deadpan. _You’re so funny._

**Punny** , Chara corrects. **I’m _punny_ , Frisk. Don’t you remember pomeraisins? That was some of my best work.**

Frisk doesn’t bother replying, and instead turns their attention to MK.

“Uh, okay, so… I just figured out my defense a few days ago. It’s not perfect yet but, um… Anyway! Here it is!” they say, looking nervous. They concentrate just like they did the first time they showed Frisk their magic (but Frisk notes that they don’t seem to be gritting their teeth quite as hard, nor do they stay still for quite as long) and slowly, painstakingly, a strange haze appears in the air, like steam tinged orange. The steam shivers and coalesces into a column in front of MK, and then shifts into the more definitive form of a tall humanoid- but not a human. The proportions are off, the limbs slightly too long and spindly, the head too angular. There’s a wild tangle of orange steam streaming from it’s head, like hair. It almost reminds Frisk of-

**Undyne**. Chara has that uncomfortable tone in their voice that Frisk has come to learn means that their thinking about _those_ times, the times when they, and not Frisk, were in control.

The steam-Undyne (it that’s what it is), strikes a fighting pose, knees bent and arms positioned like it is about to summon a spear. Then it looks around, confused. There is no threat. It straightens, and looks down at MK, then at Frisk, before shrugging and dissolving into the air once more. MK exhales loudly as they release the magic, flopping down to lie on their side in apparent exhaustion. Frisk applauds loudly, only stopping to sign enthusiastically.

[I love it! That’s so good!] they say, grinning widely. Even Chara is begrudgingly impressed. MK blushes, their cheeks turning a dull orange.

“Ah, gee, thanks,” they mumble, turning their face into the carpet for a moment. Then they pop back onto their feet, a big toothy smile on their face. “Okay! Your turn now, yo!”

Frisk nods hesitantly. Oh, no. This was just what they were afraid of! MK’s magic _is_ cooler than theirs! Still, they _did_ promise. So they move a little bit towards the middle of the room and close their eyes, reaching deep into their SOUL and drawing out the magic, feeling it curl around their hands like warm air. It’s a really good feeling. Whenever they’re balanced on the edge of their power like this, magic present but not yet formed, they feel so… _powerful_. Limitless. Endless potential at their fingertips. They can understand now why magic is so important, so special, so _sacred_ to monsters. They can see how the entire culture of monsterkind has developed around this one thing, this attribute that the whole incredibly diverse population shares. And Frisk is just _using_ magic. Monsters _are_ magic. If Frisk feels this way when they tap into their SOUL, what must MK or Sans or Toriel feel? They can’t even imagine.

Humming a familiar tune under their breath, Frisk shapes the magic. They keep their eyes open while they do, and watch as thin red roots glow against the floor of MK’s bedroom, their origin at Frisk’s feet. Gracefully, the magic grows upwards, becoming the red silhouette of a flower, about two feet high, before flashing briefly and turning a pure gold, with a green stem. The roots stay as red as a sunrise (or as blood). The flower turns slightly on its stem, like the steam-Undyne did, searching for the threat. It finds none, and seems like it doesn’t quite know what to do with itself. Frisk lets it melt back into the ground after a few more seconds, and the warm glow of magic fades from their hands and chest. MK watches the whole thing, slack-jawed. Then they let out a quiet whoop of amazement, clearly trying to contain themselves so that their mom doesn’t get suspicious. Still, it would be hard to hear anything over the music that is still blasting from down the hall.

“Frisk! YO! That was radical!” they exclaim. Their feet pitter-pat against the carpet, which is their way of applauding. Or maybe they’re just really excited. “I can’t believe it! You’re so good at this!”

[So are you!] Frisk replies, feeling themselves smiling under all the praise. They don’t think they will ever get used to how liberal monsters are with their affection. [That magic you did was incredible!]

“Oh man, Frisk, thank you!” MK says, hopping in place with their excitement. “Aaaah! I wish we could show this to somebody!”

There is a sudden pounding at the door, and a voice calls from the other side, “Hey, losers! Mom’s going out for a bit, so I’m in charge!”

MK sighs, deflating slightly. “That’s my sister.” Then, louder, they call back, “Okay! That’s fine!”

“You’re damn right it’s fine!” she snaps, and there the sound of footsteps receding. Then the music starts up again, blasting even louder than before. Frisk hadn’t even realized it had stopped.

“I… yo, I’m sorry about her,” MK apologizes. “She’s kinda snippy. But, um, don’t let that make you think she’s a bad person! She’s actually pretty cool under all the prickly bits. I think she’s just going through some stuff right now.”

[It’s fine], Frisk says, and means it. Even if MK’s sister _did_ get under their skin, they’d know better than to say that outloud. You don’t insult somebody else’s siblings. You just don’t.

**Damn straight,** agrees Chara, and Frisk remembers that they have a sibling, too. There’s a strange moment in the headspace where Frisk thinks that Chara is about to correct them into past tense, into ‘ _had_ a sibling’, but it passes without comment.

“Anyway,” MK continues, “I don’t think we should practice attacks. It could be dangerous. We could get hurt.” They pause for a second. “Or we could scratch Mom’s wood floors. Oh, man, she’s _dust_ us!” Then they pause and laugh sheepishly. “Oh, right sorry! Forgot you were human again!”

[That’s okay!] Frisk says. Chara doesn’t really feel like practicing attacks, either. [Wanna play a game instead?]

“You bet!” exclaims MK.

They try to play a board game at first, but stop as soon as they realize that MK is having too much trouble moving their piece around the board. Then Frisk suggests tag, which is a lot more fun, especially because there’s no adult in the house to tell them off for being too loud or running too fast. MK’s sister doesn’t even leave her room, turning her volume up ever-louder as their game gets more intense. Chara is helping Frisk with strategy, telling them where MK is and letting them focus on stuff like where to run and hide, and when to leap out and lightly tap their friend, signing a quick ‘T’ for ‘tag’ and running away again.

MK runs down the stairs, sliding down on their butt the last few steps as they lose balance slightly, practice and past experience allowing them to fall backwards rather than take a nasty tumble. Frisk follows relentlessly, and tags them in the kitchen.

Frisk runs up the stairs, socks desperately grabbing for friction against Monster Mom’s famous hardwood steps. MK dashes after them, laughing, and gives them a gentle headbutt “Tag, you’re it” just outside of their own bedroom.

MK runs back down the stairs. Frisk follows. And then they slip.

Their first thought, as their foot slides out from under them, is, _How silly_. Their second thought is, _I can fix this_. Their third thought, as their hand tries and fails to grab onto the banister, is, _Oh. I can’t fix this._

**Jesus Christ, Frisk.**

And then everything turns over itself and the next few seconds are just _pain, pain, pain._ They can feel their whole body getting battered on the steps- and there’s a _lot_ of steps, about twenty-five or so. They vaguely think they might be shouting in surprise or fear, but mostly they’re just hurting. Still, a fall down the stairs won’t seriously injure them. Unless they land wrong.

Which, against all odds, they do.

Hearing the crunch is bad enough, but feeling it is worse. It’s like fire, ripping its way through their arm, dripping hot on their skin and making them cry out loud, which makes two vocalizations in thirty seconds, a new record for them. They’ve got their eyes squeezed tight like that can stop the pain, but it can’t, and they’re only slightly aware of voices surrounding them. In their haze, it’s impossible to tell who is inside their head and who is outside of it.

“Frisk? Frisk?! Oh my gosh-!”

“What happened? Oh, _SHIT_ , Mom’s gonna DUST ME.”

“Frisk, hey, Frisk, c’mon-”

“Call Mom! Call Frisk’s mom too!”

“Frisk, can you even hear me right now?!”

“TORIEL? The _QUEEN_? You want me to call the _queen_ and tell her that her kid is-”

“Frisk, I can’t tell what happened, I can’t see anything, your eyes are closed-”

“Please! You have to call her!”

“I… Okay.”

“Frisk!”

Then they pass out.

When they wake up, they can feel soft, warm hands on their arm (which is still on fire) and hear a familiar voice calling their name. Their head throbs with indescribable pain as the slightest movement or jostle. It feels like their brain has been liquified, and then mixed liberally with thumbtacks.

“Frisk, my child, you must wake up. Please, dear. I need you to wake up.” Toriel’s voice is steady, but there is an undercurrent of desperation there that sharply reminds Frisk of the two children she’s lost already. Slowly, they crack open their eyes. A white blur is bent over them and they smile weakly. _Mom_. They try to sign ‘hello’, but the pain that shoots up their arm puts a stop to that. _Oh, right._

**Ohthankgodyou’reawake** , says Chara all in a rush. **Listen, your arm’s broken, okay? You fell down the stairs and banged up your head a bit too, I think.**

_What? Chara?_ Frisk thinks, somehow unable to connect the raw emotion in the voice to the Chara that they know. _I… can’t sign._

**Yeah, that tends to be a side effect of breaking your god damn arm.**

“Frisk,” says Toriel, calling their attention back to her. “I have run a diagnostic spell on you. I am going to heal your arm and concussion now, okay? If you feel anything wrong or strange- anything at all- you _must_ tell me, alright? I know you do not like to speak aloud, but please, do this one thing for me.” She looks so regretful, and so scared. Frisk nods weakly, and instantly regrets it, pain shooting through their skull like a thousand of Flowey’s ‘friendliness pellets’. They close their eyes.

**I can’t believe we fell down the stairs** , says Chara faintly. **What are we, five?**

_We…?_ Frisk thinks. They can’t organize full sentences. They’re distantly aware of the fire in their arm receding, and then stopping altogether. Toriel’s furry hands move to cup their cheeks, and they can feel her magic- hot and smoke-smelling like a wood fire- probing around their head gently. Unconsciously, their own magic rises in defense to a perceived threat- another being’s magic touching them. Something soft that is not fur brushes against their face and Toriel gasps, her hands retreating.

“Oh my…” she murmurs. “My child, when did you learn to do this…?” She doesn’t sound like she expects a reply, which is good, because Frisk doesn’t have one. They never intended for her to find out like this. They try to will their magic away, to banish the flowers that they’re sure are surrounding their body like a bed, like a golden shroud, but nothing happens. _Of course_. If they can barely think, why should they be able to control their magic? It’s just typical of their luck. After a few seconds, Toriel places her hands back on Frisk’s head, but she is more careful this time, delicately navigating around the petals and leaves of the golden flowers. Suddenly, the intense pain lessens, then disappears altogether. Frisk blinks open their eyes and is relieved that the simple action no longer feels like Undyne’s spears are piercing their head. They flex their hand experimentally. Besides a dull ache and the faint smell of woodsmoke, they’re good as new.

[Thanks, Mom], they sign. Their tears are drying on their cheeks. There is blood on one of their sleeves and the fabric is torn, a ragged gash exposing nothing but the clean new skin of their forearm. Toriel hugs them, wrapping them up in nothing but pure love (lowercase). They hug her back, the terror of the situation fading to something they can control. When they pull back, Toriel looks at them for a second, then pointedly glances at the flowers that are still sprouting from the floor. Frisk flushes and waves them away with one hand.

“Are you alright, my child?” Toriel asks first, before anything else. They nod. “Good. That is very good. Now, when were you going to tell me about all of _that_?”

[Soon], says Frisk. [I really mean it! I was going to show you soon. But I didn’t want you to worry, or get mad, so…] They trail off, hands fluttering in the air for a few seconds before dropping into their lap. They look down, ashamed. They can hear MK and their sister shuffling around nervously in the kitchen, probably worried that they had somehow accidentally killed Frisk.

“I am not angry, Frisk,” says Toriel gently. “Although, I do wonder how you learned all of this… Was it _Asgore_?” Toriel never curses. Saying her ex-husband’s name is the closest thing to it, for her. Frisk shakes their head.

[Everyone except him, really], they say sheepishly. [Undyne, Mettaton, Blook, Sans, Alphys, Papyrus…] Again, the fluttering hand gesture, no real words forming. Toriel sighs.

“I think I shall be having a talk with _all_ of them,” she says. “About not keeping secrets, and about proper education.” She stands fluidly, no bones or joints creaking, and scoops Frisk up like they are very small. “My child, I am a teacher by trade. If you wanted to learn, why did you not ask me?”

[You’re always at work], Frisk signs, bending their newly healed arm at an awkward angle so Toriel can see. [Everyone else was just kinda… Around].

“I see,” Toriel murmurs, sounding a little strange. She’s frowning. “I’m sorry, Frisk. I should be around more. The school is taking up quite a bit of my time.”

[It’s okay], Frisk assures her. [It’s okay]. They snuggle against her and duck their head, saying nothing else as she assures the two siblings (and their mother, who has returned) in the next room that everything is okay, and that Frisk and she will be going home now. They feel her walk out the front door, the temperature change from comfortable to chilly hitting them like pins and needles, although the effect is lessened somewhat by Toriel’s warmth. Frisk suspects she might be using some fire magic to keep them warmer than they should be.

She puts them in the backseat of the car and buckles them in and they drive home in silence. It’s a nice silence, though. There’s no anger or passive aggression in it. Even Chara is quiet. Frisk feels their eyes droop down, exhausted with the events of the day, but before they can truly fall asleep, the car stops. They’re home.

The rest of the day is very peaceful. Toriel casts some noise dampening spells across the house, mindful of Frisk’s only recently healed concussion, and the two of them curl up on the couch, Toriel reading quietly from her book to Frisk. It’s an old one, one she had in the Ruins- _72 Facts About Snails_. As her voice, low and crackling like a fireplace, goes on, Frisk and Chara both think the same thing at the same time.

**I can’t believe I wan** _ted to run away from this._

__

“Frisk?” says Toriel after about half an hour. They twitch slightly in response. She places a fuzzy kiss on the top of their head. “That was very impressive magic. I’m proud of you.”

  
Frisk falls asleep with a smile on their face, and Chara drifts off a few seconds later, unintentionally. For the first time ever, the two of them sleep, and they don’t dream at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S ALL THEY WROTE
> 
> EDIT: no epilogue for this one BUT it will become part of series. expect the next story to come out some time this week!
> 
> I LOVE YOU ALL  
> SO MUCH  
> THANK YOU
> 
> AAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> remember im ciphereye so if u ever wanna chill @ the tumbles......hmu
> 
> and keep an eye out for more of my stuff! i'm definitely not done writing for this fandom. (i actually have an idea for a short multichapter sans fic on the backburner rn)

**Author's Note:**

> more to come!!!!
> 
> sidenote since chara fell in 201X i realized that it's possible for them to know the Kars 4 Kids jingle so that's what theyre humming/singing. im sorry to anyone who was forced 2 be reminded of/introduced to that song
> 
> my url is ciphereye.tumblr.com if u wanna check me out there!


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